


Once Bitten, Twice Bonded

by TimeSorceror



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Naga!Fenris, Oral Sex, Ovi kink, Oviposition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 13:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11149509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeSorceror/pseuds/TimeSorceror
Summary: Anders and Nathaniel are tasked with investigating the cause of some disappearing chickens after a patrol of soldiers comes back to Vigil's Keep raving about a monstrous creature with scales and claws. They set out to the scene of the crime expecting a deranged common thief with a taste for the theatrical, only to find that somethingelseentirely is to blame for the missing fowl.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to note that this entire fic was originally meant to be a oneshot, self-indulgent, egg-laying PWP between a Naga Fenris and Warden Anders. Of course, I started talking to my friends on the DA Weird Shit Discord, and things began to slowly spiral out from there...
> 
> Why can't I ever just write something short and smutty with no plot? (disgusted noise) Maybe someday. Also, Fang of the Dragonlord is a book that was mentioned in a favorite Kanders fic of mine, [Windfall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/558094) by pibroch. It's just a trivial little thing, but after reading that fic I acquired a minor obsession with it. So it also features rather prominently in this fic.
> 
> Sadly (or perhaps happily, depending on you point of view), today is not that day. Enjoy. :)

Anders glared blearily at the back of Nathaniel’s head as he carefully coaxed his bay mare into a trot beside the archer. His fellow Warden’s horse, a dappled grey stud now just past his breeding years, merely flicked his ears back as the mare fell in line next to him.

“What the hell are we doing out here, Nate?” Anders grumbled, trying to wipe sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t slept well the night before because of darkspawn dreams, and the archer didn’t look much better, though he still had the gall to look more alert than either of them felt. Nathaniel merely grunted in response.

“I told you when we left. The commander received some reports from some farmers that animals were being taken. They wanted her to investigate.”

Anders huffed and tried to focus on the road.

“I thought Rashia had soldiers for this sort of thing?” he whined.

“She sent some,” Nathaniel replied. “They came back ranting and raving about some kind of snake, so she decided to send some Wardens instead.”

“I don’t remember drawing any straws for this…”

Nathaniel glanced over at the mage, one eyebrow raised. “We’re her most trusted Wardens, apparently.” Anders scoffed. “Out of two dwarves, two humans, an elf, and a possessed corpse? Right. I don’t think that’s a very high bar.”

A corner of Nathaniel’s lips lifted for the briefest of moments before it disappeared again. “As much as I’d like to agree with you, we all have our own… unique talents. Perhaps Rashia thought that ours were the best suited for this task.” Anders shrugged. “She just wants me “out of the house” so to speak. Thinks some air would be good for me.”

“You have been rather morose as of late since she told us she was leaving. She is likely concerned, since the only one allowed to be that morose around here is me.”

Anders snorted. “Did you–did you just make a joke? You did, didn’t you? I _knew_ you had it in you, you crafty cat, you.”

As if on cue, an orange head poked its way out of Anders’ saddlebag and mewled happily.

“Who’s a pretty kitty?” Anders immediately began cooing, until Nathaniel gently smacked the back of his head to get him to focus on the road. “Watch your horse, mage. You can coo at the beast later when we’ve camped near the area where the soldiers found the skins.”

Anders grumbled, but merely gave the little tabby’s head a pat until it retreated into the confines of the saddlebags and he grasped the reins once more. “What do you think this thing is? I mean, snake skins? That sounds like some wild delusion to me. Or the work of a demon, maybe.”

Nathaniel hummed in agreement.

“I thought that the lack of details in their reports was strange, but their task was to investigate, like ours. Few of even the arling’s finest would go above and beyond their orders if it meant some unforeseen misfortune might befall them. That does help me make sense of why Rashia decided to send us without any of the others.”

“If it’s just some common chicken thief with a taste for the theatrical, then we might be able to reason with them?” Anders chuffed. “Well, yeah, I suppose that does make sense. Velanna doesn’t exactly have the manners for that sort of thing.”

“Justice is a corpse, and the dwarves are… dwarves,” added Nathaniel.

“Hey, that’s dwarf-ist,” Anders shot back teasingly.

“What? Stop talking nonsense.”

“Whatever. I do agree though that as fearsome as they are, no run-of-the-mill chicken thief is going to listen to sweet little Sigrun… or Oghren.”

Nathaniel snorted. “Especially when the dwarf smells like a distillery half the time and an outhouse during the rest. Good fighters, the lot of them; just not a whole lot of tact.” Anders laughed. “Tact? We’re absolutely doomed, then, if all that rests on the success of this mission is us being able to persuade some village idiot to stop stealing chickens.”

“Excuse you. I’m perfectly capable of tact. It’s you that needs to keep your mouth shut. However, we should likely cease entertaining this scenario and give the situation the proper investigation it is due. There may very well be some sort of demon at work and then we shall have to hunt it down before reporting back.”

Anders scowled at him with a half-skeptical expression.

“Without a warrior? Not a chance in the void!”

Nathaniel pulled out a well crafted dagger from his belt, patting its twin on the other side before sheathing it. They were of Rivaini make, gifts from the commander, or rather one of the commander’s former companions.

“We might not need one. These are good daggers, and I know how to use them. I still prefer my bow, though. You’ve also been going through staff exercises, yes? The blade on the end of that thing isn’t just for show from what I understand.”

Anders grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. I just hope it’s not a despair demon or something. I hate those.”

Again, Nathaniel grunted in agreement, and the two men traveled in companionable silence until they had entered the forest and reached the furthest point of the area that the soldiers had dared to investigate. Luckily for the two Wardens, that point happened to be a clearing in the thicket that was just large enough to set a fire and set up camp, though beyond the clearing the trees grew so tight and thick it was hard to see clearly into them.

The thought of being in such a confined space sent a thrill of fear down Anders’ spine.

“Try to get some rest if you can,” Nathaniel told Anders in a low voice as they were tying up their horses and laying down their bedrolls. “I know you didn’t get much last night.”

“You didn’t either,” Anders replied, to which Nathaniel merely shrugged.

“Regardless. I doubt we shall need a watch tonight. Unless… you disagree?”

Anders frowned, taking moment to get a feel of the area. They were a decent distance away from the nearest farm or village; at least half a day’s ride. However, if those farms were still complaining of animals being stolen or bloodied, it was likely that whatever what out here was still hanging around, despite the fact that there weren’t any more of the snake skins the guards had mentioned in their reports.

“I dunno, Nate. I kind of want to stay up for a while. Should I wake you if I hear or see anything?”

“Maker, yes,” Nathaniel agreed. “Even if you suspect something rustling in the bushes, wake me and we’ll go investigate. This place makes my skin crawl.”

“Oh good, it’s not just me,” Anders let out with a sigh of relief. “So… you wanna flip a sovereign to see who goes hunting for game?” Nathaniel scowled. “Have you even _seen_ any on our way here? It’s like the place is devoid of anything. You can go look if you want, but I’m going to have some of the rations I brought instead.”

Anders scowled. He _had_ noticed the lack of wildlife as they had ventured deeper and deeper into the forest and veered closer to the cave systems. There had been the odd squirrel or bird here and there, but nothing much bigger than that.

Something didn’t feel right, and it was very unsettling. Suddenly Anders could see why the soldiers that Rashia had sent had turned tail and run after reaching this point. The whole area was creeper than the Blackmarsh, though nothing seemed really out of the ordinary… perhaps that was why.

“Ugh. I’m not going out there alone. Not if I can help it. Nope.”

Nathaniel chuckled as he unwrapped a roll of bread and wedge of cheese that he’d pulled from his pack. “So you do have a brain between those ears after all. Here I was wondering if all you had up there was air.” The archer’s lips twisted upwards in a wry grin and Anders rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’m blonde, not stupid, _Howe_.”

The archer merely shrugged and focused on assembling his paltry meal. Anders, giving up on conversation with the other Warden, decided to start in on making his own and took his bread and cheese from his pack, letting Ser Pounce-a-lot loose to roam their little campsite. Strangely, the tabby seemed unwilling to leave Anders’ side, which only added to his worry and made him wonder if bringing the beast along had been a terrible idea after all.

He worried a little less when Ser Pounce climbed into his lap and curled up there to start up a low, rumbling purr. Despite the comfort of his furry friend, Anders could still sense a heaviness on the air that made him anxious.

There was a strange feeling of being watched that he couldn’t shake either.

Suddenly he was regretting his decision to take up a first watch, as all he wanted to to do was sleep and hope that the darkspawn dreams or even the void-be-damned solitary nightmares were a better refuge from all this tension and unease.

Eventually Nathaniel bid him a quick goodnight after wrapping up his leftover rations and burying himself in his bedroll, leaving his weapons just off to the side within reach. Anders grumbled quietly to himself as he did his best to lean over and dig through his pack without disturbing Ser Pounce, until eventually he found a worn book with many dog-eared folds.

Anders sighed softly in relief as he opened up the book and began reading from the beginning.

 _Fang of the Dragonlord_ was always good for times when Anders was feeling particularly troubled, as this specific copy had once belonged to Karl. All the dog-eared pages were the parts that Karl had liked the most: the good bits.

Still, Anders liked the bits in between, too.

Despite being a trashy Nevarran romance novel, he loved the entire premise of the book. A young dragon-slayer goes out to do as, you know, dragon-slayers do, only he is surprised to find that the dragon has the ability to shapeshift into a handsome young man with wings, horns, and a tail. The plot was a thinly veiled thing, barely there like some of the clothing articles he’d once worn when he worked for the Pearl in Denerim, but the young dragon’s words spoke of love and companionship the likes of which the dragon-slayer has never known, and Anders couldn’t help but eat them up.

He was just getting to the end of the first smutty bit in which the strangely cordial dragon had asked for the slayer’s consent to suck him off (and _Maker,_ did he suck so _sweetly_ ) when he heard something snap in the brush surrounding them.

Anders gasped, and he quickly closed the book, reaching for his staff. 

“Nate!” he hissed. “I think I hear something!”

Nathaniel jerked awake instantly, and he shifted around in the bedroll blankets until he was on his knees, pausing to listen for whatever sound Anders had heard. For a long while, nothing came, but then Anders caught sight of a pair of glowing orbs in the darkness of the forest and he yelped, pointing in the direction of where he’d seen them before they disappeared with a soft shifting, clinking sound.

Ser Pounce-a-lot hissed and yowled, bolting off in the direction of whatever it was that had disappeared. “No, Pounce!” Anders shouted, and he quickly grasped his staff as he got up to follow the cat in the dark. He called up a bit of magelight to brighten his way, but the trees were so close together it was still hard to follow where the tabby was going. 

“Pounce, come back!” Anders shouted. “Pounce!” 

Distantly, Anders could hear Nathaniel calling after him, but Anders was too worried about Ser Pounce-a-lot to care. It was so hard to see in the thicket that Anders kept tripping over his own feet, the brush, rocks. He couldn’t find Ser Pounce at all, and he was beginning to cry in his frustration. He _needed_ Ser Pounce! 

“Please don’t leave me,” he sobbed, unable to move any further. He curled up against a tree and pressed into the bark in his grief, unable to face the thought of having lost the fierce little tabby to whatever monster was lurking out here…

A soft shifting sound rustled the brush around him, and instantly Anders’ sorrow was replaced with fear, his heart dropping into his gut. “No,” he whispered, clutching his staff, “no, no, no…”

He found the strength to continue running through the forest, though by now his head was clouded by fear and the desire to _not get eaten or worse_. Eventually, the thicket opened up a bit more as he moved towards the cliff face where the caves were, but despite his progress growing easier, Anders’ anxiety only bloomed as he progressed.

Anders paused when he came to the entrance of a particular cave, and an icy thrill of fear shot through him as he caught sight of the area around it.

Huge, filmy skins littered the area near the roughest of rocks that could easily fit around his waist and then some. Anders bent to touch one and recoiled, feeling the paper thin texture and shivering as the sensation made his skin crawl. These… were these…?

“Snake skins…” Anders breathed. “Sweet maker…”

Anders backed away, his heart racing, and he was about to turn tail to head back to find Nathaniel when he heard a soft mewl from… _inside_ the cave. He turned all around, gripping his staff and throwing his magelight further to see if there was anything nearby. There didn’t appear to be, but Anders was too wound up to relax, so he merely adjusted his Warden robes, gathered what little courage he could, and moved to enter the cave…

–and that was when something tackled him to the ground and bit into his neck, flooding him with some sort of toxin that first relaxed him, warmed him, and eventually, knocked him out cold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which things get very steamy, very quickly. I hope you're not scared of snakes. ;)
> 
> Or snake penises, which are not called penises, by the way. But that's not the point. Enjoy your smut. :P
> 
> Warning for a bit of dub-con and attempted rape.

When Anders woke, it was to near complete darkness.

Something was holding him down, and he yelped, crying out reflexively. No, no, he couldn’t be back here, he was with the Wardens, right? He _was_ a Warden. This… this had to be a nightmare. Or… had he merely dreamed up his last escape? The Wardens? _No, please no!_  

Anders choked back a sob as he thrashed, or _tried_ to thrash in the dark. His body felt heavy and unresponsive. It wasn’t quite numb, as he could feel a hand trailing along the nape of his neck, quick fingers lightly trailing what felt like a bite mark from the shape the fingers were tracing.

He stilled, unable to help the whimper of fear that escaped him, and the hand that was stroking his neck paused. He couldn’t breathe. The darkness… was too… much...

“Please…” Anders whined quietly, “I need… I need a light. Please.”

There was a gentle sigh in the darkness that was able to ground Anders in some semblance of reality before the heavy blackness was quickly chased away by a white-blue light that was tinged with the energy of the Fade.

Anders gasped when he finally caught sight of what the _source_ of the light _was_.

From the waist up, the creature looked like a well muscled male elf with dark skin, pale white hair, and green-gold eyes that glowed occasionally like a cat’s might whenever the markings that wound all the way downwards from the creature’s chin would flicker. From the waist down, however, there lay a long and thick mass of flesh that was covered in iridescent black and white scales that were scattered in undulating circular dots and patterns from about where the hips might be to the very tip of its very large tail.

Each time the markings flickered, the creature’s face twisted in pain, and suddenly Anders’ healer tendencies began to assert themselves in spite of the situation.

“Hey, you don’t… if that hurts, you can stop. I can make my own…”

Anders frowned, reaching for his magic, but found that even though he could still reach it, doing so felt like he was moving through a lake of mud to get to it.

“I–I can’t cast,” he began to chatter nervously, wanting to inch away from the creature but suddenly finding himself unable to do so, as his body was still too lax and unresponsive. His breath hitched and tears welled in his eyes as fear gripped his heart again, almost suffocating him despite there now being a source of light in the… cave? 

The creature moved against him, the scales making a soft clinking noise as the muscles beneath shifted. Soon it was laying half on him and reaching up to touch at his neck again, and almost apologetic look on its face as it leaned up to press a kiss against the edge of his lips. Something in Anders was stifled and calmed, though his heart still beat fervently as he shivered like a leaf in his fear.

It gave a soft, plaintive sigh when the glow of the markings dimmed and the cave was plunged into almost darkness once more.

Anders whimpered again, though now his eyes had adjusted and he could make out the faint outline of the creature that lay atop him, still nuzzling his face with all the affection of a cat wanting some attention. This was more tender than that, somehow, but the thought of the comparison made Anders gasp when he remembered what had happened before he’d been knocked out and brought here. 

“Hey, um… listen,” he tried to address the creature, voice trembling. “Can you… can you speak? Can you understand me? I need… I need to know–” he closed his eyes, tears finally falling over and trailing down his cheeks. “Did you eat my friend? Ser Pounce-a-lot?”

Anders hadn’t been expecting an answer, so when one came, his heart almost jumped out of his chest at the creature’s reply.

“The cat?” It rumbled. The voice was deep; masculine. “No, I did not eat your companion.”

“Why can’t I move?” Anders blurted, unable to stop vacillating between panicked and calm. “I… I don’t like being restrained. I–I can’t… help me...”

“Hush,” the creature soothed. “This will be easier if you do not try to move.” Anders felt the tail of the creature wind around his leg, and suddenly Anders became very aware that he was only clad in his shirt, trousers, socks, and smalls. “What’ll be easier?!” Anders cried out, panicking again as he felt his body respond to the way the creature’s body was slowly rocking against his. He felt sick, afraid. Violated.

Suddenly he was back in solitary again with two templars holding him down while a third was positioning himself from behind, ready to take him... and he broke down into sobs, chanting, “No, no, no, please no,” under his breath, along with, “Please don’t! I’ll do anything! I’ll be a good mage, just– _no_!”

Almost immediately, the creature’s movements ceased, though it did not move from Anders until his breathing slowed and his tears dried up. Gentle fingers brushed new ones away when they fell, and the creature sighed deeply.

“I… apologize. I find that I cannot stomach the thought of forcing myself on a compatible partner, mage or not. You do not deserve such callous treatment. I know what it is to be… forced.”

Anders’ breath still came in shuddering gasps as he stared at the creature, bewildered.

“Wh–what are you?” Anders frowned, licking his lips and tasting the salt of his tears. “Who are you? Do you have a name? Why are you doing this?”

The creature gave a quiet huff of amusement at his litany of questions. “My captor in the north called me a naga. Once, apparently we were revered by their people when they still believed that we were related to the dragons they worshipped. They also believed that if they served their purpose in their current lives well, they might become one of us in a next life.” Anders had difficulty making out the naga’s expression in the near pitch darkness, but he thought he could detect a snarl from the slight jerk of the naga’s head and the growl that ripped from them while their eyes glowed with greater intensity.

“What a ridiculous notion. We are nothing but toys for their use, now.”

“Captor?” Anders breathed. The… naga said he’d been… forced, in the past. “Don’t tell me, they… used you?”

The naga hissed, and a shiver ran down Anders’ spine because the sound was too much like the rattle of the snakes his father had often told him to watch out for in his youth.

“They did. I am sorry that I tried to do… the same to you–ugh!” The naga bent over and clutched at his middle, canting off to the side and landing against Anders. Once again, his healer tendencies flooded him in full force, and he found that he could move his arms just enough to try and grasp the naga’s shoulders to steady him.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong? I… I’m a healer, maybe I can help.”

The naga groaned, panting. His tail twitched and thrashed a bit until eventually whatever seemed to be ailing him subsided for the moment.

“Mating… urges… and… laying cycle… hurts. Not a good combination.”

“Laying? As in… eggs?” Anders’ heartbeat picked up again as his hands flexed slightly where they gripped the naga’s shoulders. “Was… that what you were trying to do to me?” The naga shifted until he was able to look up at Anders, glowing eyes staring up at him pitifully.

“I… don’t know. I was never permitted to lay eggs in my captors, though I knew others who also kept members of my kind sometimes… allowed it.” The naga let out a shuddering breath. “I have been through the laying process several times before, but it’s never felt like this. I keep wanting to rut, to bite, to _take_ what I need, but I _can’t_ …” He panted softly in rapid bursts as he trembled against Anders, a hand clutching at the shirt Anders wore.

“I won’t force myself on you. I thought it would be easier, since you’re like _them_. Commanding the forces of nature with mere thought and whim… but I cannot. Not when you have made it quite clear how much the thought of being forced into this… terrifies you.”

Anders had gathered by now that this… naga must have been kept as some sort of pet in Tevinter. A pet used for pleasure and Maker knew what else. He felt his face twist into an expression of disgust. Rashia had already told him before how despicable she’d found the Tevinter mages from the Denerim alienage to be, and the things this creature was telling him cemented Anders’ hatred of their practices.

He also really needed something to call the naga. “Creature” seemed almost an insult.

“I… Maker. I still don’t know your name. Do you have one?”

“I have no memories of before these brands were carved into my flesh.” The markings from earlier glowed softly again, pulsing to some beat Anders could not hear. The naga’s heartbeat, perhaps? The naga sighed, continuing, “All I remember is the pain of them. And then the male human standing over me, calling me “Fenris.” His little wolf.”

The naga pressed further against Anders, tail winding about his legs in a way that spoke of someone seeking comfort rather than the sex that had almost occurred earlier.

“If you must call me something, that is the only name I have.”

“Fenris…” Anders whispered, tasting the name on his tongue. The naga, Fenris, sighed contentedly in response before crying out again and releasing one of Anders’ legs in order to let his tail thrash against the ground to try and cope with the pain. Anders’ heart hurt just watching the spectacle, even as he swore he could feel the aforementioned eggs pressing against the side of his leg where part of Fenris’ tail was wrapped around him.

“I… Fenris, is there anything I can do to help? I… I’m not exactly equipped for, um, carrying eggs, but surely, there must be something I can do? I can’t stand to see you in pain.” 

Fenris chuffed. “That’s… not quite accurate,” he whispered, to which Anders frowned.

“What? Which part?”

“The… equipment issue. I think the bite… did something to you. Changed you. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Anders stilled, and he was able to reach just enough magic to send a cursory diagnostic spell through his body before his connection to the Fade flickered again, making him gasp.

“ _Sweet Maker_ ,” he breathed, not sure whether to be fascinated or horrified. Fenris had been right about the change in that he indeed was now capable of… carrying Fenris’ eggs. There weren’t any extra holes or ovaries attached to the… womb, but… it was there. He shivered, trying to shake the numbness of the discovery from his mind before speaking again. 

“I… It’s not your fault, I think. You said earlier that we were… what?”

“Compatible. I don’t know how I know that. I just do. Being near you… helps. But I need more.”

“Do you… have to lay the eggs… inside? Can I-I… I dunno, get you off or something and make your body think that you’ve mated?”

Fenris wiggled in place a bit after Anders said this, and he could hear the naga’s breathing grow labored. “It–” Fenris panted, “That might work. However, I don’t think that… you will be able to do it to me the way you humans do it. Naga anatomy is… different.”

“Well, obviously,” Anders replied, glancing along the wide length of Fenris’ tail. “I don’t even know where your… um. Wait. If you lay eggs, do you even have a dick?”

Fenris scowled at him, though Anders gathered that he wasn’t truly angry, only mildly annoyed.

“Apparently I am one of the few who possess both. My captor told me how rare a trait that was, that I should be honored.” He growled into Anders’ chest, and he couldn’t help but gasp at the sensations that elicited from his body. Fenris’ head shot back up, and he reached to trail a pattern around the bite on his neck. “Is–have I done something wrong?”

“No,” Anders managed to answer after the strange wave of pleasure had finished rolling through him. “No, that was… quite good, to be honest. But, um… so, you have a dick, then?”

“Two, actually.”

“What? Why?”

Anders couldn’t be sure, but he was certain the naga had just given him one of those nonplussed “the hell if I know” looks.

“I just do. And they’re… not like yours. They’re barbed. But the toxins are supposed to help make the mating process easier either way, so… maybe if… no. _No_.”

Anders frowned. Two barbed penises? Yeah, it certainly sounded painful. However, his body was thinking something completely different, as he felt his own dick twitch in arousal and his skin tingled where Fenris touched him, heightening the sensations. A part of him was suddenly very into the idea of having sex with this strange yet incredibly gorgeous creature, though the rest of him knew that if they were really going to do this, he wanted to know all he possibly could about how Fenris’ species had sex.

“I want to help,” Anders told Fenris as the naga trembled through another wave of pain. “I just… need to know that if I… if I let you fuck me, I’m not going to regret it. Do you know how… your species has sex?”

“Sort of,” Fenris mumbled into Anders’ shirt. “We only use one of the two because… because they… expand. Lock in place.” He growled again in what Anders assumed was resentment and anger, though the vibrations sent more waves of pleasure through Anders that were so great he found himself unable to hold back a moan.

“Ah… I’m sorry,” Anders panted, fighting the haze of his arousal to form the words in his mind and speak them aloud. “What–what were you about to say?”

“...that I don’t like the thought of being so… vulnerable. Whenever my captor forced me to... penetrate… they would drug me with human toxins and… do things. I don’t remember most of them, but I remember they were often unpleasant and I was always sensitive and unwell afterwards because it can take a long time to detach.”

Anders’ arms reflexively tugged the naga against him.

“I wouldn’t do that to you even if I could. And it’s not like I can just get up and go places right now. It’s hard to form even the desire to move much less put my body into motion when I have the inclination, it’s so hard to think.”

“I’m sorry. When I caught your scent, I… I wasn’t quite myself. My only desire was the sheer _need_ to mate, and when I bit you, I… it seems I got carried away. Usually I am so careful with which toxins I use and how much. They should –urk!– they should wear off by sunrise, if that worries you.”

It _had_ worried him just a bit, but Fenris’ pain seemed to be worsening the longer this went on, and Anders’ worry for his own safety was slowly being dwarfed by his concern for the naga in his arms. A sinking feeling in his chest told him that they _had_ to make a decision about this, and soon, before… Anders wasn’t sure. The laying cycle started? Before Fenris couldn’t control his urges anymore and lost his ability to consent? 

“Right now, your pain worries me more. I… look, if you need…”

“No. I will not hurt you.”

“I don’t think you will. Not if we do this while you’re still lucid and I’m hopped up on whatever it is you put in my system when you bit me. You said the toxins keep me relaxed, right?” 

“Yes,” Fenris conceded reluctantly, “but–”

“No buts,” Anders hushed him, reaching up to stroke his hair. It was coarser than he thought it would be, though it was still light and smooth like silk between his fingers. “If you’re really that concerned, you can bite me again. Is there… a particular toxin that would make it so that I can’t feel any pain?” 

Fenris huffed. “I’ve given you a lot of it already. I don’t know if I can give you much more.”

“I’m a healer and a Warden, Fenris. I can undo whatever damage you might do… well, when my magic comes back, anyway. Wardens are also hardier than most people. It’s okay.” Anders gently rubbed Fenris’ arms, trying to soothe the naga’s nerves. “Look, I… I can’t claim to understand this whole mating thing because it’s not a thing humans do, but… you look like you’re in a lot of pain and if sex is what you need to alleviate that pain, then, well.”

He flashed the naga a smile and hoped that Fenris could see it better in the almost darkness.

“It helps that you’re so captivating. What I saw of you, anyway. 

Fenris was quiet for a while, the part of his tail that was wound around Anders’ leg twitching periodically before he sighed heavily against Anders.

“Even… my tail? The brands?”

“All of you,” Anders breathed. “I mean, you still terrify me a little because you could probably kill me quite easily if you really wanted to, but… you’re beautiful.” Anders paused, frowning. “I hope you’re alright with me saying that. If… the person who used you…”

“No, they never said such things. It was always commands. Sometimes praise at my skill or prowess in pleasing them. I know they found me as captivating as you, but… they never said as much. And, if they had… I doubt they would have said it with such reverence.” Fenris squirmed, and Anders’ skin tingled as he did so, pleasure travelling along his nerves like wildfire.

“Does it make you uncomfortable when I say it?” Anders pressed. Some part of his hindbrain kept pressing him to see to Fenris’ comfort in this matter. It was paramount that Fenris not be anything other than at ease with the situation.

“...no,” Fenris finally admitted. “Quite… the opposite, actually.” He grumbled, and then his brands lit again so that Anders could see all of Fenris once more. Fenris was staring at him, pain and apprehension etched into the lines on his face, and Anders tried to reach up to… do something. Sadly, even though Anders could move his hands, he couldn’t quite manage to be coordinated enough to cup the naga’s face so that he could kiss the pain away like he wanted.

Anders scowled. “Ugh. Everything is numb. I can hardly feel my hands enough to be coordinated… but apparently my dick doesn’t have a problem getting hard.” He sighed, leaning back against the bed of… what was this, feathers? Anders didn’t have the presence of mind to care, only able to register that he wasn’t actually lying on the cave floor but something quite soft.

“If, um, we’re doing this, you’re probably going to have to do most of the doing. Sorry.”

Fenris chuckled, very quietly, and when Anders angled his head to look at Fenris, he was surprised to see a slight flush to the naga’s cheeks in the cool blue light.

“You really can’t feel much, can you?”

“Not a thing, I promise. In fact, if just you chuckling against me is enough to get me half hard, Maker, I’m almost looking forward to however long I’d be tied to you.” He panted, wishing he had enough coordination to remove his trousers and smalls, because things were starting to get a mite uncomfortable down there.

Fenris caught and held his gaze for a moment before sliding against him until they were face to face, the naga’s hands gently cupping his chin.

“I want to hear you say that you want this,” Fenris whispered, to which Anders responded by capturing the other’s lips in a heated kiss, his hips jerking to grind against the heavy weight of Fenris’ tail. When Anders moved back, he apparently left Fenris quite dazed, as his markings fizzled back to the gentle pulsing from before.

“I fully consent to and want this, Fenris. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Fenris’ nostrils flared and the pupils of his glowing green-gold eyes shifted into something more snake-like. Anders squirmed slightly in his unease.

“Um. Are your eyes supposed to do that?”

The naga ducked his head and when Fenris looked back up, his eyes were still slits, but there was a kind of shyness in the way that the naga held himself. “I… yes. I’m sorry if it bothers you.” Anders managed to maneuver his limbs so that his hands were rubbing soothingly up and down Fenris’ arms.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I was just a little startled, is all. Promise.”

Fenris sighed contentedly and gently nuzzled Anders’ face all over. He reached for Anders’ hair tie and released the hair normally confined to his tight ponytail while also tugging at the earring the commander had gifted him which he wore in his right ear. The sensations that the tugging drew from him were exquisite; every shift, every movement was hypersensitive compared to what he normally got out of such attentions.

“You won’t have to do much,” Fenris panted when he appeared done scenting and pressing kisses against the light stubble on Anders’ cheeks. “Merely tell me if I am hurting you… or if you feel me hurting you. _Please_.” He emphasized the last word with a plaintive whimper, and Anders nodded before he was finally able to form the words, “Of course,” that satisfied Fenris. 

Fenris immediately began sliding down to remove Anders’ trousers and smalls, freeing Anders’ cock to the cool cave air. Anders shivered, and he wasn’t sure whether or not it was from the coolness of the air, the sweet drag of his trousers and smalls as they were fully removed from his person, or the nervous excitement that set his body aflame when the warm weight of Fenris’ body shifted to remove Anders’ shirt as well.

“Are you cold?” Fenris asked as Anders felt the naga’s tail once again winding around his legs, slightly squeezing and caressing them as they were very gently coaxed apart.

Anders moaned, slowly losing himself to the sensations of being held, squeezed, caressed. The strange, smooth warmth of Fenris’ snake scales made things even more bizarre, but by now Anders had guessed that one of the toxins Fenris had injected into his system had to have been something that enhanced his pleasure as well, and he was quickly approaching full hardness.

“Oh, no, I’m good,” Anders managed between pants. “I’m _very_ good, and you haven’t even _touched_ me yet. Maker…” That was when Anders felt Fenris’ tail shift his hips upwards and something… wet started pressing at his entrance. He yelped, and Fenris became very still.

“I… Are you alright? I’m sorry, I should’ve said something… um. I just realized… I don’t know what to call you. Names are… I rarely found a use for them before.”

The warm wetness had retreated, but as it did so, Anders risked a look down and almost regretted it when he did. Fenris’ tail was quite long indeed, so very long and thick that Anders couldn’t guess the true length of it in the low light that Fenris’ flickering brands provided. However, what drew Anders’ attention was what looked like a two pronged penis that had emerged from a slit about a forearms’ length from the base of Fenris’ tail.

And it was indeed barbed, as Fenris had warned him. Somehow, this turned him on even more, not less, and Anders was having a hard time figuring out whether that was his actual desire as opposed to the toxins talking.

“Ah, sorry,” he finally managed after a while, “I’m, um. Anders.”

Fenris nodded just before he bent over again and pressed against Anders’ chest as he rode out what had to be another wave of pain… only it didn’t look like pain now. Fenris lay panting against him when it was finished, and when he pulled away again Anders could sort of see in the light of the flickering brands that the naga’s eyes had glazed over.

“That… looked different. Are you alright?”

Now it was Fenris’ turn to struggle to form words. “Very… alright. That was… not the pain that I expected.” He glanced down at Anders and whined, very softly. “Please, I need… I need it.”

Anders had a vague idea of what “it” was, and now that he had actually glimpsed the naga’s… bits, was surprisingly quite eager to let Fenris take what he needed. He nodded emphatically and huffed between breaths, “Go… ahead. ‘m ready.” He tried to spread his legs a little more, but Fenris’ tail held him fast. Still, the naga got the message, and this time when Anders felt the warm wetness against his entrance, he did not cry out.

Then it started to press in a little, teasing. Testing. Fenris did this once, and then a second time, before quickly sliding in the entire penis, leaving the other to slide against Anders’ own.

Anders gasped, wincing a little as the barbs dragged against his inner walls for a few heartbeats, and then he felt them… settle into place? Like a lock and key, in a way. Fenris stilled, and both human and naga were very quiet save for the heaviness of their labored breaths.

“So…” Anders finally began after nothing else seemed to happen for a while, “what happens n–ahhh…!”

Anders’ words cut off as the penis inside him began to slowly expand and further lock them together, eventually getting to the point where his prostate was being stimulated constantly when Fenris’ tail started to twitch and shift around Anders. The pleasure was so instantaneous and constant that Anders came so hard he nearly whited out, and even when he was finished twitching from that first orgasm, he could feel another one building up quickly.

Still, that hindbrain impulse to check on his partner was back, and he struggled through his haze of bliss to find Fenris’ face. 

“Fenris? How–shit, by all that is holy–Fen? Fenris, how are you?”

Fenris could only groan in response, and Anders was distantly aware that part of Fenris’ tail was rippling in half rhythmic patterns along his inner thighs. About a foot from the place where he and Fenris were locked together the area grew warm and slick, and the naga shifted from being half on top of Anders to lying next to him. He still clung desperately to Anders however, and he was grunting and moaning through each deep breath he took.

“Starting to… lay the eggs. No… stopping it now. You… you alright?”

“Unnnngh. Sensitive. Blissed out. Shit. I’ve never been more concerned that I might fall asleep mid-orgasm. When do you get to do that? I mean, my hands are useless, but is there something I can do to help you out?”

Fenris groaned, and there were a few rushed moments where his tail couldn’t decide whether to twitch or thrash. Something warm and wet filled Anders’ channel as a gentle thud echoed in the space of their little cave. “Nn–no n–need,” Fenris whispered as he took a few slow breaths. “S-something about doing this while t–tied to you… makes the laying process so… much more… pleasur–ahhh!” There was another soft thud as something smooth and sticky rolled against Anders’ leg, and though he couldn’t see it, he was certain it was an egg. 

He meant to ask how long the process usually took, but by then that second orgasm that had been building from all the rubbing and twitching Fenris’ dicks were doing to Anders from inside and out, after one particularly hard rub Anders’ back was arching and he was coming again and knew that he still had several more in him.

Of course, the bliss and stimulation here were near constant and the orgasms were almost blinding in their intensity. He was certain that he definitely had several more orgasms in him after this, but whether or not he’d be awake for them… it was difficult to guess.

Maker, he definitely wanted to be awake for this.

More eggs rolled into the space between Anders’ legs, and over time the frequency at which Fenris laid them gradually decreased, as did each of their orgasms. Anders was awash in bliss, his thoughts slow and scattered, his limbs heavy with the heady lethargy that was beginning to give way to the call of the Fade. His belly sloshed a little with so much of the naga’s cum inside, making him feel pleasantly warm and full.

“Last egg, I think,” Fenris’ whisper cut through the thick fog of his mind, rousing him enough to hear one final soft thud as the aforementioned egg rolled out with an easy push, eliciting a sigh of relief from Fenris. Anders barely felt it when the naga’s dick shrunk and detached, allowing him to pull out.

Much of the cum that Fenris’ dick had been holding in trickled out of Anders in a rush, though some definitely remained within. Anders guessed that the toxins in his system that had given him the “womb” or sorts were also telling his body to keep some of the normally unneeded liquid inside, whether it was a sort of pseudo-replacement for the eggs he’d declined to have laid inside him or the process was meant to fertilize said eggs had he taken them in, it was hard to say. There was certainly a purpose to it, however Anders’ pleasure addled mind had absolutely no desire to find it. 

He could distantly hear Fenris’ resigned sigh after this however, and the naga mumbled something about cleaning up and replacing the bedding.

Anders was aware of his mouth mumbling something in response, a question of some kind, but all he received in response was a tired chuckle and a gentle command: “Rest, and I shall follow you soon enough.”

And with that, sleep came quickly and for once his dreams were filled with something other than darkspawn or the dingy cell of his solitary confinement.

Green-gold eyes, dark skin, white hair, and iridescent scales chased away all else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made a few distinct choices when I began writing this: nagas are a permanent fixture in this world, they always have been. Therefore, this makes this universe an alternate one. Fenris talks about how he was a pleasure slave, not a bodyguard, though he was trained as one at some point, because he has obviously escaped Tevinter. I also don't explain how Fenris got from Tevinter to Amaranthine. Mostly because I didn't have an answer. I also don't believe I ever name Danarius, specifically, and there is a reason for that.
> 
> Another choice that I made was that I decided to attempt write this entire fic from Anders' third person perspective. Thought it would make for a nice challenge, and boy did it. Awakening Anders' head is a hard place to get into, sometimes.
> 
> Anyway, I tumble [here](http://timesorceror.tumblr.com/). Come say hi. Oh, and [here's](http://hikarinovikki.tumblr.com/) where I stuff all of my naughty posts. :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an awkward morning after where Nate and Anders exchange what I think are the best lines of dialogue I've ever written.

The second time Anders woke, it was to something rough and wet licking the left side of his face. He frowned, blinking the sleep from his eyes until he was aware enough to turn his head and find whatever it was that had disturbed his rest.

When his vision cleared, Ser Pounce-a-lot’s face filled his field of view.

“Pounce!” he whispered, reflexively trying to move his arms to bring the cat to his chest. However, something (or rather, someone) was already occupying that space, and was half laying on top of Anders, trapping his right arm underneath. 

That was when all of the events of the previous evening came rushing back as Anders took in the man beside him… whose long, iridescent tail was wound up in a neat little circle just past Anders’ feet. He blinked, suddenly realizing that he could actually see the space around him, though there wasn’t any direct sunlight, exactly. Off to his left seemed to be where the light was coming from, as the sunlight appeared to be filtering in from around the curve of the cave, and he realized that a thin woolen blanket had been thrown over him to ward off the night’s chill.

All around Anders and his sleeping partner (who he vaguely remembered was called Fenris) were hundreds upon hundreds of feathers and scattered piles of thin, hollow bones. Anders also spotted his Warden robes and gear pressed up against the far side of the wall opposite him.

“Ah. Found the chicken thief,” Anders mumbled.

And that was when his eyes finally came to rest on the eggs that were nestled within the circle of Fenris’ tail. Even from where he lay, he could see the gleaming sheen of the shells, and he was struck with the sudden desire to touch one, though that was going to have to wait until the naga awoke, what with Anders practically pinned underneath Fenris’ weight.

Then Anders heard the distant call of a familiar voice, and the naga atop him was suddenly wide awake and hissing.

“Hey, hey–wait!” Anders hushed him, and Fenris paused at his panicked urging.

“That voice belongs to the one who was with you,” Fenris growled. “I–”

Fenris hesitated on his next words, a look of shock and shame coming over his face, and as he pulled away from Anders he hunched his shoulders and pressed his chin against his chest while his arms wrapped about his sides.

“I’ve made a rather terrible mistake, haven’t I?” His eyes, which were more green now than gold in the dim light of the morning, flickered upwards briefly to glance up at Anders, who had sat up with him. The blanket that had been laid across him now pooled in his lap, and he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was still completely naked beneath it. 

“No, no,” Anders soothed. “Look; let me go see Nate, and tell him I’ve found the chicken thief, yeah?” He looked around, gesturing to the feathers and piles of bones. “You _did_ steal several of the chickens from the nearby farms, didn’t you?” Fenris nodded curtly. “Even though the eggs aren’t viable, I still get… nesting urges. I was never allowed to hunt for my nest materials before; I was always given things. I…”

He frowned, and Anders turned around when he heard Nathaniel calling out his name.

“You should go,” Fenris said in a small voice, still hunched over. “Thank you for… last night.”

Anders shook his head. “No, I’m coming back for you. If I can convince Nate to let you come back with us, you… might not have to sneak around to hunt things. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Once again, Anders’ head whipped around, hearing his name growing louder and louder. Nathaniel was getting closer to their little cave, so Anders decided not to wait for Fenris’ response and merely leaned in to press a quick kiss to Fenris’ lips as he whispered, “I’ll be right back, I promise.” Then he tugged the blanket out from underneath the befuddled naga and wrapped it around himself as he left the cave to see if he could find Nathaniel nearby.

It didn’t take him long.

“Nate?” Anders called out as he exited the cave, which was answered by a breathy, panicked, “Anders? Anders, where are you?”

Eventually Nathaniel stumbled through the brush, bow in hand, looking quite tired and disheveled and… worried? Anders could hardly believe it, though for once he chose not to comment on it, as he was sure being only clad in a woolen blanket was bound to have the archer asking questions.

“Anders! You’re alright!” Nathaniel exclaimed, visibly relieved. Then, predictably, Nathaniel frowned and looked Anders up and down. “Why… are you only wearing a wool blanket?”

“I, um,” Anders chuckled sheepishly. “I found our chicken thief?” 

“Andraste’s ass,” Nathaniel swore. “You slept with them?” The archer sighed deeply and shook his head, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I was up half the night searching for you, worried sick and wondering what the hell I was going to tell the commander and now I find you like this, really?”

“Think of it this way,” Anders began, “I might not have a whole lot of tact when I speak, but my dick could potentially negotiate peace between Ferelden and Orlais?”

Nathaniel groaned. “By doing what, fucking the Empress?”

“Hey, I hear she’s very pretty. And I’ve actually seen Queen Anora. She’s quite the looker.”

Another groan fell past Nathaniel’s lips, and this time the archer required a full face palm to keep his composure. “I… just… whatever. Look, we have to take this thief back to the keep to be questioned, alright? Are they still asleep?” Anders hesitated, biting his lip. 

“Okay, um. See, this chicken thief, ah… they’re not… entirely human, exactly.”

Nathaniel blinked at him like he’d just said the sky was purple.

“What? You… so you slept with a–”

Suddenly the archer’s eyes widened and he nocked an arrow against his bow, drawing back the string in rapid movements almost too fast for Anders to see. Anders, knowing that there was only one possible thing that could cause such a reaction in his fellow Warden, clutched his blanket in one hand and held out the other, palm raised in supplication.   
  
“Nathaniel wait! Stop!” 

An arrow flew through the air before there was any time to react, and Anders heard Fenris grunt in pain behind him. He wheeled on Nathaniel, fury fueling the bubbling rage in his chest.

“Damnit, Nathaniel! Wait! He’s not going to hurt you.”

There was a slight scoff behind him and a groan that had Anders turning around to search for where the arrow had hit. Fenris was hunched over, a hand clutching at the arrow, which was lodged in what Anders assumed was the naga’s… left hip?

“No, don’t pull on it!” He hissed, but Fenris shook his head. “Wait, I can do this,” he insisted, and suddenly the brands lit up, causing both men to stop and stare as part of the naga’s other hand became transparent, _dip into the flesh of the naga’s hip_ , and then pull out the arrow from the wound with little trouble. The brands flickered out and the arrow fell from Fenris’ fingers, and that was when Anders noticed the bleeding, magic suddenly flowing into his fingertips.

“Fenris, hold still–this might sting a little.”

The naga hissed a little when Anders’ hands pressed against his side, muscles tense as though he were expecting more pain… but as Anders’ magic touched him, his expression was one of surprise and wonder as he relaxed. The small wound was healed, and Anders wiped the blood away with the blanket… until he remembered he was supposed to be wearing it. 

“Uh, oops,” he said sheepishly, fixing the blanket around his waist as he turned back to face Nathaniel. 

“Right, Nate. As I was saying…”

“I, um,” Fenris mumbled, gently tapping his shoulder. “He reacted rightly. I… might have had the desire to attack him.” Anders glanced back to see Fenris inclining his head to Nathaniel apologetically. “Thank you for the warning shot, archer.”

Nathaniel was blinking at Fenris, visibly stupefied at the naga’s cordiality.

“Ah… thank you?” Nathaniel finally managed, slowly lowering his bow to the ground. “So… you’re the… chicken thief?”

Fenris nodded. “You and the farmers have my sincerest apologies. I was… nesting. I was having difficulties finding wild birds with enough feathers, and it helped that they doubled as decent food. I understand that the farmers may not see it that way.”

Fenris glanced at Anders, and ducked his head sheepishly.

“The two of you came close to my laying cycle, and… I wasn’t myself. My body began to hunger for a partner to mate with, and one of you was compatible.” Fenris explained. “Not… that I still know anything about what that means. I fear… it might mean more than I think it does.”

Anders turned around so that he could have both Fenris and Nathaniel in his sight.

“What do you mean? Like, do your people mate for life, or something?”

Suddenly, Anders had a sinking feeling in his gut. That might explain Fenris’ defensive behaviors concerning him, though it looked like the naga wasn’t as ruled by them as some species might be. Fenris scowled, and shrugged as he stared angrily at the ground.

“I don’t know. Aside from how to not injure myself during a laying, my northern captors told me nothing about how my species functions.” He released a low, rumbling growl from his throat. “If I knew anything about it before, the process that was used to put these brands into my skin removed all memory of any such potential knowledge. I’m sorry.” Anders’ heart ached to see the poor naga so frustrated, and instantly the knot of feelings in his stomach dissolved in the wake of his worry.

“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault…” Anders soothed, gently placing one hand against Fenris’ back. He glanced pleadingly at Nathaniel. “Do you think Rashia would let us do research into this? I think… I think he has a right to know.” Then he added as an afterthought, “It would be helpful to know for me too. Just… as a healer.”

And because the… extra bits that Fenris’ toxins had given him were still present, despite the stuff obviously having worn off.

Not that he was about to tell Nathaniel about that just yet.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel was frowning, likely mulling over the recent exchanges that had just occurred. “Northern captors?” He asked after a while, to which Fenris nodded. “I believe it is called… Tevinter?” Fenris’ features immediately pulled back into a half snarl at having to speak the name aloud.

“My former master… captor… is still alive. I know not whether he will come for me this far south, but I have no desire to become his pleasure slave again.” He looked down at his hands, where the markings were softly pulsing with light.

“Nor will I be his pet assassin again. Never. I would die first." 

Nathaniel sighed deeply, and put his bow away to fold his arms across his chest, eyes closed in deep contemplation.

“Certainly not. Slavery of all kinds is… unjust.” His lips quirked upwards as he opened his eyes to meet Anders’ gaze, and Anders couldn’t help but smile in return. Hearing Nathaniel quote Justice in that moment told Anders all he needed to know about Nathaniel’s decision, but the archer continued for a few more moments, saying, “And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s becoming my father. So, tell you what… Fenris, is it?”

Fenris nodded.

“Well, we still have to report back about what’s been stealing and eating the chickens, so if you’re willing, you should come back with us. Knowing Rashia, she might forgive you on sight and adopt you into our band of misfits. Not to mention that a keep full of Wardens is as safe a place as any to hide from a Tevinter magister for a while.” 

“And what’s the other option?” Fenris asked warily.

Nathaniel shrugged. “We go back and say we killed a demon with a strange penchant for stealing and killing chickens, and you get to go wherever you wish. It’s your choice, though.”

Fenris’ tail, or the part of it that wasn’t supporting his upper body to keep him upright, twitched nervously as he mulled the options over in his head. Anders had a feeling though, that he knew what the naga would choose despite having been given a choice to leave.

“I will go with you, then,” was Fenris’ reluctant answer.

Fenris’ eyes flickered to Anders, and he felt himself flush. He didn’t know what that lingering look meant, but it tugged at some string deep in his heart. Perhaps the naga also wondered about what the lingering repercussions of last night’s coupling would bring about and did not wish to be parted from Anders should those potential consequences turn out to be disastrous.

Nathaniel nodded, and Anders suddenly wanted to know what was going on in the archer’s head. Aside from his initial shot at Fenris, he had been remarkably calm about the whole ordeal.

Perhaps he would be able to pick at the archer’s brain later to find out.

Just then a small mewl got everyone’s attention to shift towards the cave, and there sitting just behind Fenris, looking very prim and quite pleased with himself, was Ser Pounce-a-lot.

Nathaniel sighed. “And there’s the little beast that started this mess,” his fellow Warden muttered. “I suppose it’s good to see that he’s alright. I would hate to see the mess you’d be if we found him dead.” Then he scowled even more so than usual –quite the feat, in Anders’ opinion– and fixed his gaze on Anders.

“Well, I would suggest finding your gear and getting dressed. While you could most certainly ride a horse wearing only a blanket, I don’t recommend it.”

Anders grinned. “Have some experience with that, do you, Howe?” 

Nathaniel grumbled. “Just go put on your clothes, mage. I’d rather not have to hear you complaining of saddle sores just because you decided you wanted to make an entrance.” Anders winced slightly as he turned around and attempted to saunter off back to where he’d seen his things folded against the cave nook’s walls. It appeared that he might be complaining of being sore in the saddle either way as he discovered one of those few lingering effects in the form of an interesting soreness that he wondered how he hadn’t noticed earlier.

Just before he turned the corner into the nook, Fenris called after him.

“Anders! If you could turn the blanket into a sling and place the eggs inside, I would be grateful!”

“Yeah, sure!” Anders called back, suddenly wondering what the look on Nathaniel’s face might be at the mention of the eggs. Eventually Anders made his way back to the chicken feathered nest and put on his clothes and gear once more. His staff had also been laid next to his clothes, and he propped it up against the wall so that he could grab it quickly once he was finished dealing with the eggs.

They were not hard to miss.

He had only seen them once, and only for a few moments after he had awoken. There were not as many as he had expected; just about three dozen pearly white, oblong eggs about the size of his fist. They were smooth to touch, and warm, though they weren’t hot enough to burn as he carefully put them into the makeshift blanket sling. A slight pang of… something that felt like a mixture of envy and regret filled his middle as he handled the eggs and the thought occurred to him that, perhaps with the… equipment that Fenris’ toxins had given him, he could’ve certainly carried these easily enough.

However, he promptly ended that line of thought, since he didn’t wanted to think about what might come _after_ such a thing. How long would the eggs stay there if they weren’t fertilized? How long if they were fertilized? Would fertilized eggs grow any more once inside? Did eggs even work like that?

Anders shook the thoughts from his head as soon as all of the eggs were safely secured in the sling. He could probably think about these things later. Much later. After like a couple of brandys.

He sighed and grabbed his staff on the way out, and was very careful with the sling as he handed off the eggs to Fenris. Nathaniel stepped a little closer to get a better look at them and paused when Fenris growled, though he quickly corrected himself and apologized again.

“I… I keep forgetting myself. I have all of these… protective urges that I know are not necessary because the eggs are not viable, but…”

Nathaniel nodded. “Yes, I understand.” Then he glanced down at the eggs and back up at Fenris. “You… _laid_ these? Was it painful?” Fenris shrugged. “Before, it was neither painful nor pleasurable. Last night was… different. Being with a compatible partner,” –here, he took a moment to meet Anders’ eyes– “changed things. I don’t know why. It did hurt at first, when I was fighting the urge. I’ve never desired to lay eggs inside another before, it was terrifying.”

He looked over at Anders. “It terrified you, too.”

Anders smiled at Fenris and shrugged sheepishly. “It did, but I’m glad that I could help, in the end.” Fenris frowned. “Yet I do not know what this will change in the future. I would like the opportunity to understand more about… myself. My species.”

“And with luck, you shall have that opportunity,” Anders promised him, sneaking a glance at Nathaniel, who nodded.

“I concur. Now, if you don’t mind, we should start heading back.”

“What do we tell the farmers?” 

Nathaniel shrugged. “Rashia will handle that. She’s better at bullshitting the nobles than I ever was, so the farmers will likely not be anywhere nearly as difficult.”

“She could always tell some bastardized version of the truth?”

“Like what? We found the thing that was leaving the snake skins and we dealt with the problem?”

Fenris grinned. “That would not entirely be a falsehood, so… yes.”

Once more, Nathaniel sighed. “Alright, fine. Let’s just go… but you,” he said, pointing to Fenris, “might want to steer clear of the horses while we’re riding. And don’t go too far.” Fenris seemed to reflexively sidle close to Anders, grumbling quietly with discontent.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” he muttered so quietly that Anders wasn’t sure Fenris had even intended for him to hear. The thought of being separated from the naga for too long disturbed Anders on some deep, primal level as well that he could not fathom the origins of. All he wanted to do was go back into the cave with Fenris and sleep until he had the energy to do some sleeping of a different kind... 

And once again, Anders was left wondering just how many things about his life were going to change because he hadn’t been able to _not_ think with his dick… or his bleeding heart.

* * *

The way back to Amaranthine was surprisingly uneventful. Fenris _did_ have to travel outside of sight of the horses and several paces back to as not to spook them, and this had Anders craning his head to look behind them every so often. He couldn’t understand why he had such a need to make certain that the naga hadn’t just turned tail and left, but he knew the desire was there and that it was distracting. No, nearly all-consuming.

It helped that each night that they stopped to camp, Fenris would sneak past the horses and cuddle with Anders. After maneuvering his tail into a neat little nest and placing the blanket sling inside, he would practically drape himself over the mage. Anders, still fascinated by the eggs’ existence, picked one up the first night they’d stopped to camp and asked Fenris about them.

“So, what happens to these eventually?” Anders asked as he tumbled one over in his hands, fingers running across the smooth surface.

Fenris grunted. “Eventually I’ll lose the desire to keep them safe and warm and then I can do with them whatever I wish. Usually, since my escape from Tevinter, I’ve eaten them.” Across from them, Nathaniel’s face looked a mixture of awe and disgust.

“That doesn’t bother you? To eat your own eggs?”

Fenris shrugged. “It’s not like my future children are in these. They’re basically like large chicken eggs, and they don’t taste much different than those, either. It was a practical decision, that first time. Eat the eggs or starve. I was still very close to Tevinter then, and I didn’t want to get caught because I was too weak to move. So I ate them for as long as possible until I desired or needed to hunt proper game again.” 

Nathaniel considered this for a few moments before taking a bite out of his dwindling bread and cheese sandwich and nodding slowly.  “Makes sense, when you put it that way. I don’t know if I would’ve had the stomach to do it, though.”

“Hunger might make you change your mind after a while,” Fenris told him in a low voice as Anders replaced the egg in Fenris’ makeshift nest. 

The naga also slept practically on top of Anders both nights they’d made camp, though and he was quite content to let Fenris do so. Something about the position made him feel… safe. Safe and loved without a care in the world. Anders knew that it was dangerous to let himself feel such things for this... man whom he barely knew, but he couldn’t deny the feelings that were currently blossoming in his heart.

On the second night, after Fenris had fallen asleep, Anders managed to dig out Karl’s battered copy of _Fang of the Dragonlord_ and read the next few sections where the young hunter brought the dragon home. There, his group of misfit mercenary friends were rather all strangely sort of accepting of their fearless leader’s new lover and of course he and the dragon set out to get up to all sorts of nonsense. Smutty nonsense.

Ser Pounce-a-lot interrupted his reading time by worming his way underneath Anders’ arm and sitting on the side of his chest not occupied by Fenris, immediately kneading him and purring loudly. “Time for sleep then,” Anders sighed, setting the book aside. He took a few moments to luxuriate in the feeling of Fenris and Pounce’s weight and warmth before sleep took him.

Then came the day Anders had dreaded (and one that he was certain even levelheaded Fenris was concerned about): the morning they came within sight of Vigil’s Keep. 

“How should we handle this so that Fenris isn’t shot once he’s in range?” Anders asked Nathaniel as they paused at the edge of a ridge on the path to the keep. Nathaniel sighed deeply. “I suppose the easiest thing to do is for me to go ahead and give you a signal when it’s safe to approach. I’ll have someone shoot a fire arrow or something. Worst comes to worst, I’ll send a runner.”

Not having any better suggestions, Anders let Nathaniel go on ahead and settled in to wait.

Twice he looked back at where Fenris was shifting uncertainly, and after the third time Anders decided to wave him forward. His mount whinnied uneasily when she caught sight of Fenris’ lower body, her ears flickering, muscles bunching to either run or charge. He held up a hand and Fenris stopped, waiting as Anders spoke to the horse in soothing tones until she settled again.

Eventually Fenris was able to get close enough to sidle right up next to Anders, though the horse was still wary of the naga beside her.

“How did you do that?” Fenris asked him quietly, the naga equally wary of the horse in turn.

Anders shrugged. “Before my magic manifested, I grew up on a farm. I learned how to handle horses as well as ride them, and the one thing that my father drilled into me when he was teaching me was that horses basically see their handlers as their leaders. If you’re calm, they’ll be calm. It’s not something that Nate knows how to do though, I think.”

“And why is that?”

Anders shrugged again. “He grew up in a noble family. He probably learned how to ride, but not much else. That was probably stuff for the horsemaster to know, not Nate or his siblings.”

Fenris hummed agreeably in response.

“Say, can I ask you something, Fenris?” Another grunt. “Sure, what would you like to ask?" 

Anders reached over to one of the saddlebags and a soft purring started up as Anders’ fingers found a soft, furry head and began to scratch at it absently.

“Why didn’t you eat Ser Pounce-a-lot when he chased after you?”

Fenris snorted. “Short answer? Too small. Too furry. Not enough meat.” Anders scowled, but he could see from the light in Fenris’ eyes that the naga was half joking, at least. “And the long answer?” Anders pressed. At this, Fenris sighed and his shoulders slumped. “I… couldn’t say, to be honest,” Fenris told him, face pinched as he appeared to be thinking back to that night.

“I suppose, if I had to give an answer, it was that I think he knew I was there to seek you as my mate, and he went straight for the cave to scent it. He didn’t go after me, so I didn’t see a reason to go after him.”

“You were there to seek me as your mate?” Anders asked incredulously, and he watched as Fenris’ face flushed. “I–what? That…” Fenris spluttered. “I, um. I said before that once I caught your scent, I wasn’t myself. However, those words… seem right. I don’t know why…”

The naga’s face twisted into a mixture of fear and anguish and Anders gently reached out to touch Fenris’ shoulder.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine. Hopefully we’ll be able to figure this out. Rashia is… a good person. She’ll totally let you use the keep’s library to see if it has anything on your species and if it doesn’t, then we have the resources to reach out to other places.” Fenris frowned at him. “A… library? That… I don’t know, Anders.”

“What do you mean? Do you… you know what those are, right?”

“Yes, I know what library is,” Fenris snapped, snarling. “But I would like to remind you that I was a pet, a _slave_! Slaves are not permitted to–!” Fenris’ face froze, and he cut himself off, hugging his arms close, hunching in on himself. 

Suddenly, the implications of Fenris’ words dawned on Anders. 

“Oh,” he whispered, nearly inaudible. “I’m sorry, I should have realized–ugh. I’m such an ass. Damnit. Nate’s right, I have no tact whatsoever. Shit. Fuck.”

There was a soft sigh, and this time it was Fenris’ turn to reach out to Anders. He jumped a little bit, which caused his horse to shift uneasily again until he calmed her, but Fenris waited patiently until he was done to speak his piece. 

“Do not berate yourself so,” Fenris said to him in an even, quiet tone. “It was perhaps a little tactless, but I did not advertise my… illiteracy. You could not have known. It is I who should apologize for snapping at you.” Anders sighed and was swept with the sudden desire to lean down and kiss him.

“Well… I suppose I could teach you then?” Anders offered, almost timidly. “I don’t know how much use you would have for it outside of this, but… I don’t know. It might make up for me being such an ass.”

“At least… you’re a rather captivating ass,” Fenris quipped shyly, and Anders felt his face flush. 

He was about to try and reply to that, but just then a fire arrow streaked across the sky and into a small lake nearby. Anders straightened up and nodded his head in the direction of the keep. “Um, well. That’s our cue,” he finally managed, and the two of them began to approach the gates together.

The walk there felt like an eternity of silence, and Anders almost stopped his horse’s progress when he saw who waited for them at the gates.

It was a woman, clad in Warden mage robes with a Commander’s emblem emblazoned across her left shoulder. She had pale, freckled skin, dark brown hair tied back into two severe looking buns, and bright amber eyes that were staring not at Fenris, but at him. Anders’ gut nearly dropped through his ass for his horse to trample as they came to a stop in front of her, but that was when he noticed the slight twitch of her pale pink lips.

“So,” she began, and only then did her eyes flicker from him to the naga beside him, “Nate tells me that you found our chicken thief.”

“Did he… tell you anything else?” He asked, his voice pitching up slightly upon dismount. 

The woman chuckled. “He might have mentioned that you also had sex with said chicken thief. I figured that I should perhaps reserve my judgement until I could hear the entire story for myself.” She turned and properly acknowledged Fenris’ presence with a slight incline of her head.

“Shall we take this inside, then? I am most anxious to hear more about the reason behind these… disappearing chickens.”

With a wink and a smile, the woman turned around and began to head towards the keep.

Fenris looked over to Anders as he was handing the horse off to one of the stable hands, and then back at the woman. “Who… who is that?” he asked, almost in awe. Anders gently grasped one of Fenris’ hands and led him in the direction the woman was heading.

“That,” he told Fenris, leaning over to whisper in one pointed ear, “is Warden Commander Rashia Amell, Arlessa of Amaranthine; the Hero of Ferelden, slayer of the Archdemon Urthemiel.” He heard Fenris’ breath leave him in a rush. “She… didn’t even bat an eye at… me. Your commander is unlike any person I’ve ever met.”

Anders chuckled as they began to enter the keep, making their way to the receiving hall.

“I know. She saved my life when I might otherwise have been killed, or worse; made Tranquil.”

Fenris’ grip on his hand tightened, telling Anders that somehow the naga knew of Tranquility and its horrors. “What manner of crime did you commit to warrant such a thing? In Tevinter it is only used for the most horrid of crimes, and they display blood magic proudly in their streets.”

Anders laughed softly. “I wished to be free,” he told Fenris bitterly. “A true crime, I suppose, if there ever was one.”

At this, Fenris was silent, though he moved near to Anders’ shoulder as they entered the hall.

“Hey Spaklefingers! Nate. Commander.”

A redheaded dwarf who was leaning against one of the large kegs on the far side of the hall waved at them, and Anders wrinkled his nose. Even from here he could smell the man, ugh. He glanced at Fenris, who was also making a face, though he seemed better at hiding it. Anders doubted that the dwarf cared either way.

“Hey Oghren,” Anders called back. “You take a bath recently? They’re good for your health, you know. Healer’s honor.”

Oghren scoffed. “Bah! Have you tried wearing pants?”

Anders paused, looking down at himself, and then back at the dwarf. “How drunk are you? I am wearing pants!” Then he added after a moment, “And trousers, too. It’s probably more than I could say for you, dwarf.” 

Oghren grumbled until he caught sight of Fenris beside him. He blinked several times before taking another drink of whatever was in his tankard and slamming it on a nearby table loud enough to make Rashia and Nathaniel turn around to look.

“Whoa. Who’s the naga and why’s ‘e hangin’ off yer arm like some blushing bride?”

Fenris growled. “My name is Fenris, _dwarf_ ,” he hissed, “and I would suggest that you do not approach any further. I do not know you or trust you and I cannot always control myself when my nesting instincts take over.” Oghren frowned a moment before his eyes caught sight of the eggs nestled in the naga’s blanket sling, and he immediately took several steps back.

“Ah, right. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Anders noted that Oghren seemed to sober up much just from that encounter, and that he had recognized what Fenris was straight away. Perhaps he could pick the warrior’s brain later if Fenris was indeed allowed to stay. 

And, speaking of which… 

“So Fenris, was it?” Rashia called from where she stood in front of the keep’s throne. Anders had noticed that she never actually sat in it; she always stood and looked her subjects in the eye. She claimed it unsettled the nobles and helped the peasants to open up. Fenris, who was neither, was still eyeing her with some mixture of admiration and apprehension.

“Yes,” Fenris answered, making an effort to stand apart from Anders. “That… is the name I was called in Tevinter. I have no memory before my early adolescence, when I received these markings,” –here, he showed her the bluish-white swirls embedded in his skin– “and therefore do not know if I was ever called anything else. However that is the name I was given by my captors, and I have nothing else by which you might call me. Fenris it is.”

Anders watched Rashia’s face twitch for a moment when Fenris mentioned Tevinter. Her hatred for the magisters and the entire institution of slavery was well known amongst their little group of misfit Wardens.

“Fenris,” Rashia repeated. Her eyes closed with a deep sigh as she folded her arms across her chest. She remained that way for a heartbeat or two before opening them again to fix her gaze to Fenris’, the naga somehow not recoiling under her heated gaze. “I suppose it’s best to get straight to the point: why were you stealing and eating chickens? And… terrorizing my soldiers who went to investigate?” Anders noted that there was a hint of humor in her question and a smirk on her lips, as though she knew something they didn’t.

Fenris inclined his head to her, and showed her the eggs in his blanket sling.

“I was nesting, and very near to the end of a laying cycle. I needed the feathers for a nest, and I wasn’t about to waste the meat, so I ate them. The guards… merely got too close. So I tried to warn them off without hurting anyone. I had intended to do the same with… with these Wardens of yours, however I ran into a complication I did not anticipate.”

Fenris’ explanations were simple, and direct. Rashia’s slight nods told Anders that she approved. She had no tolerance for bullshit and beating around the bush, and she often said it was refreshing when she met another who was of a similar mind.

“What was this… complication?”

Fenris glanced back at Anders, who stood very still when Rashia’s gaze flickered from Fenris to him and back. Fenris’ ears twitched, and they lay flat against his hair as he ducked his head, unable to keep hold Rashia’s gaze at last.

“In my pre-laying haze, I… began to be ruled more by my desires than my intent. When I caught the scents of your Wardens, I had not been expecting to find a… potential mate among them. It drove me to… chase them and drag them off. I…” Fenris’ shoulders hunched over and he began to hug himself so tightly that Anders was having trouble resisting the strange urge to comfort that had bubbled up inside him.

Fenris sighed deeply. “I believe my desire was to lay the eggs inside them, which the toxins in my bite would enable me to do. However… I found that I could not bring myself to force this upon an unwilling participant. In the end,” here Fenris glanced back at Anders again, “ _they_ ended up convincing _me_ that even despite my actions, I was still deserving of their help, and they spent the night making certain that I was as comfortable as possible during my laying.”

Rashia nodded, though one eyebrow was slightly raised. She knew that Fenris wasn’t telling her everything, but she seemed content to let this particular omission slide.

“To summarize then,” Rashia began when it became obvious that Fenris couldn’t or didn’t wish to reveal any more, “you stole the chickens for a nest to lay eggs in, and you got a bit territorial. You didn’t hurt anyone, but you did abduct and almost rape one of my Wardens, potential mate or not. However, since I’m assuming it was Anders you imprinted on, he still helped you lay your eggs anyway and then… what? You come to confess your crimes? I have no doubt that you were given the option to leave.”

Fenris nodded. “You assume correctly. Anders and I, we… we were…”

Sensing the naga was floundering, Anders stepped forward next to Fenris. “We had sex, Commander. It seemed that after Fenris initially refused to force himself on me, his laying cycle became uncomfortable to the point of pain. It was difficult to watch, and so I made the decision to alleviate that pain in the only way that seemed obvious at the time. The laying went smoothly, but it was obvious when morning came that there were… repercussions.”

“Repercussions?” came Rashia inevitable question.

“I am still… quite possessive of Anders,” Fenris answered, continuing with, “and have an overwhelming desire to remain close to him. There are also several other feelings that I cannot pin down that worry me, and I do not know whether what occurred that night was a proper mating or a temporary measure… how will my next laying cycle change because of this, if at all?

“Before meeting Anders, my cycles were neither pleasurable nor painful, but this time that changed and I have no idea why. The same ritual that wiped all knowledge of who I was before these markings also likely took whatever knowledge I might have had of how my species functions. How we mate, whether we mate for life, what changes my body might take on after a mating. Anders suggested that I might find answers here if I came and confessed, so that is why I am before you now.   
  
“Firstly, I wish to apologize for my thievery, as well as terrifying a few of your soldiers, and for nearly forcing myself on one of your Wardens. However, I have no desire to hurt anyone the next time this occurs, therefore I also wish to reclaim a part of myself that was stolen from me in order to avoid similar transgressions in the future.”

Anders was suddenly awash with a strange sort of pride that… he realized _wasn’t his own_.

However, there wasn’t time to dwell on that because Rashia was walking up to them–Fenris, really, but the naga was so close to Anders that she might as well have been approaching them.

She stopped about a few feet from where they were clustered together, and she glanced down at the eggs in the blanket sling that Fenris was holding protectively against his belly. She pointed to an egg and asked the naga, “May I touch one?” Very reluctantly, and at a gentle nudge from Anders, Fenris relented, and gave her one egg to very carefully turn over in her hands. She gave it back after a brief inspection, and then asked if there was anything inside.

“Nothing much more than you would find in an unfertilized chicken egg,” Fenris answered, a slight smile making its way onto his face. “And yes, I am aware of the irony.”

Rashia chuckled. “Well, it seems that everything that is relevant to the original crime has been said and then some, yes? Perhaps it’s time I passed judgement then.” Fenris inclined her head to her. “I await your verdict, Warden Commander.”

“There’s no need for such formalities,” she told him. “I have no great love for Tevinter or their practices, so please, use the library as you see fit. Should you need anything, food, clothing, let myself or Seneschal Varel know. Nathaniel’s good for it too, if you can get him to stop being morose for more than five minutes.”

Nathaniel grunted in protest, but said nothing to actually refute the statement.

“You’ll need a room, too,” she mused, shifting her weight to one foot while stroking her chin thoughtfully. She glanced up at Anders, meeting his gaze. “There should be some suitable quarters near the infirmary that are not being used. You wouldn’t mind relocating there, would you? It’s not such a terrible distance from the library either.”

“No, of course not,” Anders managed to splutter. The thought of sharing a room with the naga both excited him and filled him with nervous anxiety.

“Then it’s settled then,” Rashia said lightly with a note of finality. “I’ll tell the farmers that the issue has been dealt with, and in the meantime I’ll help you however I can until I have to leave.” Anders frowned, but the thought of Rashia’s trip to Weisshaupt didn’t unsettle him as much as it had before. Perhaps his new bedmate was the cause of this change. If so, perhaps sharing space with the naga for a little while wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

“And what if… this turns out to be permanent?” Fenris asked, and again, Anders felt his stomach tumble over itself a few times. Rashia merely chuckled. 

“Then… welcome to the family, I guess. I’ll introduce you properly at dinner later.” She winked and walked off, leaving Anders and Fenris to their own devices. “I… guess I’ll show you to that room,” Anders muttered. Fenris hummed appreciatively. “I think I’d like that.” Yes, not bad at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tumble [here](http://timesorceror.tumblr.com/). Come say hi. Oh, and [here's](http://hikarinovikki.tumblr.com/) where I stuff all of my naughty posts. :P


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which there is more smut, a little bit of anxiety about the accidental bonding, and Fenris is introduced to the Warden's merry band of misfits.

When they found the room, it was covered in dirt and dust from disuse, but the larger bed that it contained looked quite promising indeed. Certainly it was a much welcome change from the bunk he’d been sleeping in before when he shared a room with Nathaniel, or even one of the infirmary beds which he sometimes elected to sleep in because he was too tired to find his way back to his quarters. 

This room was definitely closer, and once they had it cleaned and the bed given fresh linens and pillows (lots and lots of pillows at Fenris’ insistence), it felt more like a home to Anders than he had felt since before his magic manifested.

When Anders left to disrobe and take a nice hot bath before dinner, Fenris was currently on the large bed, the naga’s tail wrapped snugly around his eggs, shuffling the blankets and pillows around to his liking. These quarters had a proper bath with dwarven plumbing that was set into the floor, with decent dressing space. It caused Anders to wonder at why it wasn’t being used, though he stopped caring once he sank into the warm water of his bath.

He was laying back, luxuriating in the relaxing warmth when he heard the door behind him creak open. He stilled, but then he heard Fenris’ voice call out to him, “It’s just me, Anders.”

Anders turned around, the water sloshing softly as he moved. Fenris was slowly making his way to where Anders sat, his lower half wiggling to propel himself forward. “You know, I do wonder how you’re able to stay so silent with so much movement,” Anders pointed out as the naga settled beside him. Fenris touched the tip of his tail into the water, testing it, and Anders watched as his eyes narrowed to snake-like slits.

“A lifetime of practice, I would imagine,” Fenris murmured idly as he slowly slid into the water tail first. With more weight in the water, the liquid rose further up Anders’ chest, lapping at his nipples and making him shiver. Fenris, all of his tail now fully submerged, leaned against Anders’ side. He was now _quite_ aware of his nakedness and was very glad for the Orlesian bubble mix he’d decided to put in with the water.

“I can smell it, you know,” Fenris said after a beat of awkward silence.

“Smell what?” Anders asked with shaky laughter. Fenris turned his head to nuzzle at Anders’ neck, brushing his nose gingerly against the scar of the bite. Anders suddenly felt himself relaxing, though not to the degree that he’d been when they’d been intimate in the cave.

“Your anxiousness,” answered Fenris softly, pausing now and then to lick at Anders’ skin. “Your fear. Your arousal.”

“Earlier, I thought I felt pride when you spoke to Rashia with such confidence,” Anders confided, “but I realized that feeling did not belong to me. This… should we be encouraging this? What if someday you’d rather, I don’t know, mate with one of your own? Surely you don’t want to be tied to me for the rest of your life. Or mine. We Wardens don’t live as long as most…”

“You might, now,” Fenris told him matter-of-factly. “After I bit you the first time, I could sense the corruption in you slow. It still travels in your blood, but not as rapidly. I may have to bite you again to reintroduce that particular toxin into your system however, since the suppression does not appear to be permanent.”

“What, really?” Anders leaned back against the side of the tub, dazed. “So, naga bites can extend Warden lifespans? Geeze. Don’t tell any of the others that.” Fenris pressed even further up against Anders, his ears flattened against his hair in what looked like fear, if Anders was reading him right. Anders had no idea if there were also nagas with human ears as opposed to elf ones and if either species behaved as their two legged counterparts did in regards to how they dealt with fear, but Fenris’ behavior was as similarly cat-like as an elf might posses, and Anders knew cats.

“I do not plan to,” Fenris grumbled. “I have no desire to bite anyone other than you, even for that purpose.” Then Fenris appeared to have registered Anders’ earlier comments and resumed nuzzling and licking at his skin, furthering Anders’ arousal.

He couldn’t tell if Fenris was responding to that arousal or inciting his own on purpose.

“In regards to your concerns about whatever it is that has formed between us,” Fenris murmured, moving around to settle between Anders’ legs and lick down from his neck to his chest, “I feel it is best we do not try to resist. I fear what might happen, as when I tried to resist our mating several nights past.” 

Anders frowned, remembering that night. He also felt around in his mind for the connection Fenris had pointed out, and there was indeed something binding them together. When he touched on it for a moment, he could feel surprise, hesitation, concern. Fear.

“What are you afraid of?” Anders couldn’t help but ask, his reaction of concern was so visceral and instantaneous. “A lot of things,” Fenris whispered, pausing in his ministrations. “I find that I enjoy this closeness, no matter that it came from a place of fear and pain. I also find that I do not wish to relinquish it, though I worry that it is coloring our ability to consent.”

“Hey, this is new territory for me too,” Anders tried to reassure Fenris. He wrapped his arms around the naga, placing them beneath the water on the slight dip of Fenris’ waist, above where his hips should be. “But unlike that first night, I’m less afraid, and more… concerned. I like this closeness too; it’s nice. I’ve got Warden duties though, and I can’t just tell the temporary commander, “Hey, I’m done hunting Darkspawn because I accidentally married a naga!” Yeah, that would go over _real_ well,” he chuckled. “I’m definitely also into whatever it is you’re trying to do to me right now, I promise you. Still wish I knew how to pleasure you, though. This is a bit one-sided to me.”

Fenris echoed his chuckle and captured Anders’ lips with a kiss as Anders leaned forward to press just little bit of tongue against the naga’s lips. Fenris moaned softly, and Anders could feel the naga’s pleasure through the faint connection. He pressed forward, taking the opportunity to plunder Fenris’ mouth with his tongue. Fenris shivered and wiggled in Anders’ lap, causing his hips to buck and his cock to rub up against the naga’s navel.

“Oh, you just leave that to me for now,” Fenris purred, his breathing coming in short, panting bursts. “Right now, I just want to make you feel good, and when I’m ready, I’ll show you how you can pleasure me properly.”

Anders grinned. He could live with that.

He reached up to thread his hands through Fenris’ shock of silky white hair, pressing his forehead against the naga’s. “I’ll hold you to that, love,” he whispered, and then kissed the naga again as though his life depended upon it.

Fenris responded in kind, quick learner that he was, and soon his fingers began to grasp Anders’ shaft, enveloping it and pulling on it gently to wring a quick orgasm out of the man. Anders was left shaken and panting as the naga began to move lower, laving at his nipples as his deft fingers fondled his balls briefly. Following that, the naga’s great tail moved through the water to coax Anders into scooting forward, giving Fenris access to his anus. 

“I do not want to numb you so soon after our last coupling,” Fenris panted heatedly, “so I do not think I should join with you as we did before. How would you feel about the tip of my tail? Taking as much of me as you possibly could?”

Anders groaned, and Fenris chuckled as he seemed to have received the answer he sought.

“Anders,” he growled softly, insistently. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you need it.”

“Maker,” Anders swore, “don’t tease me anymore! I need it–need you! Oh, Fenris…” Anders threw his head back slightly as Fenris fingers teased at his hole, and his eyes widened when he heard another chuckle followed by a splash and a warmth enveloping his cock. A glance down showed him what he already knew; Fenris had gone below the bubbles and the water and was sucking him down while fingering him with expert precision.

Anders, even for all his Warden stamina, didn’t stand a chance against such an onslaught. He tried to keep his hips from bucking, but he was unsuccessful until Fenris’ tail held him back. Fenris had to come up for air only once, hair wet and dripping water and bubbles as green-gold snake eyes glittered from behind the curtain of wet hair. He had to grip the sides of the bath when he was coming again, and he bit his lip to muffle his cries out of habit.

This seemed to disturb Fenris, as his expression when he resurfaced was pleased, but his voice gently scolding. “You have no need to hold back your cries so,” he told Anders, nuzzling their noses together. “Be as loud as you like for me.”

“S–sorry,” Anders panted. “It’s just a habit of my days in the Circle.”

Fenris hummed soothingly. “Your feelings tell me that the southern Circles are not like those in the north. There is so much pain there, so much fear, and yet–yet now you are glad to be free. Glad to be here, with the Wardens. With me.”

“How do you know such things about me from my feelings alone?” Anders asked, frowning.

“You are so free with your feelings,” Fenris told him, very quietly. “They speak volumes. More so than the words you use to fill the silence.” Then it was Fenris’ turn to frown. “Someday, I hope you will tell me why the silence and the dark frighten you so… but for now, I want to make you happy.” Something that was not Fenris’ fingers began to prod at Anders’ entrance.

“ _Very_ happy,” Fenris continued, with emphasis. “Do you still want this? I apologize if I have… killed the mood, as it were.”

Anders sighed, his heart filling up with a deep fondness for the naga pressed up against him. Despite the interruption in their previous activities, Anders was still very much interested in continuing, and so he merely pressed a quick kiss to the tip of Fenris’ nose before humming appreciatively at the warmth that spread through him at the thought of the naga’s concern.

“Have your way with me, Fenris. Send me to the Golden City and bring me back to life with your kisses, and should you succeed I shall do my very best to shower you in thanks.” Anders grinned at the amusement that rippled through him at his next words, “As loudly as you like, of course.” This had Fenris chuckling too, and the pressure at Anders’ entrance began teasing him slowly, gently, tenderly.

“Alright then,” Fenris rumbled, running his hands soothingly up and down Anders’ sides. “Now remember, you asked for it.”

Anders was about to shoot back a quick retort, but then the tip of Fenris’ tail wormed its way inside him very carefully, causing him to gasp as it progressed. He held himself very still, resisting the desire to squirm, though this gave him ample opportunity to marvel at how different taking Fenris’ tail felt as opposed to one of his dicks or a regular human penis.

Being a tail, it of course was tapered from the bottom, and it widened as more and more of it wriggled inside. The scales were smoother and warmer, more flesh-like than Anders had anticipated, and when it started rubbing against his prostate his hips bucked despite the tail also holding them in place. Fenris did eventually let up a little on the pressure as his tail reached yet another spot, different from his sweet spot, that made him see stars.

“What… is that?” 

“One of those lingering repercussions,” Fenris grunted. Anders wondered if somehow the naga was getting off on just pleasuring Anders alone. Maker, he hoped so. Other than kisses and nipple play he had no earthly idea how to reciprocate the attentions that were being showered upon him. Suddenly it occurred to Anders that the point Fenris’ tail was pressing against was the entrance to the womb that Fenris’ toxins had somehow created inside him.

Anders knew he should probably be a little weirded out by this right now, but at the moment he was too flooded with pleasure and arousal to care.

“I..” Anders panted, “I have wondered since you laid your eggs… what would it feel like to have them inside.” Fenris groaned. “I have wondered that too. What would you look like, carrying them? Even if they were not viable, you would have them inside anywhere from a couple days to possibly weeks. I would keep you aroused during the laying, to ease the passage. You would enjoy it, as there would be no pain.”

Ah. That answered that question.

“But how does the body know when it is time? What if I got too uncomfortable?”

“Then I could jump-start the laying process with a bite. Or so I heard, anyway. As I said, I was never allowed to lay eggs in either of my captors, or their friends, but it certainly occurred. Some even sought out naga like me, who could both sire and be sired upon. I would love to help you find out what it feels like, Anders. Just imagine it, being so full with my eggs…”

Strangely, the thought was so very arousing that Anders nearly came from the desire alone, though it was difficult to parse out which desire was his and which was Fenris’. It all flooded him in one wave of arousal that had him undulating against the naga, whimpering and crying out occasionally whenever his prostate was brushed against or Fenris dared to press against that other space inside…

“Please,” Anders begged, “please keep touching me there, yes–there!”

Fenris complied, and when he pressed against that spot after grasping Anders’ cock and pumping in time with the thrust, suddenly Anders’ back was arching as he came, howling up a storm. Slowly, gently, Fenris brought him down from his high, removing his tail and helping Anders finish his bath by washing his hair, rubbing him down with lightly scented soap, and then helping him to dress after drying him off. 

Though Anders might have normally balked at such a treatment, when Fenris did it, he didn’t feel quite like the child have might’ve been were it say, _Nathaniel_ doing this for him.

In turn, Anders had done the same for Fenris, feeling a swelling of pride in his chest (this time one that was his own) as he washed Fenris’ hair and dried off the naga’s body above his scales, which dried faster than Anders could get to them. He also helped Fenris try on a Warden shirt and tunic which Fenris did not seem to mind as much as either of them had anticipated.

“Dinner should be soon,” Anders murmured as the two of them were settled on the bed, still engrossed in what Anders could only describe as a mutual grooming ritual. Fenris had tied Anders’ hair into its usual ponytail after it was dry, and now Anders was combing Fenris’.

“I think I shall leave the eggs here,” Fenris mused. “I would rather not… be tempted to hurt anyone should they get too close. Things like almost murdering a person tend to leave an impression, I believe.” Anders snorted. “If you think you can leave them here without driving yourself up the wall, go for it. But if you need to bring them, bring them. I’d say your restraint is pretty good from what happened this morning.”

“Still,” Fenris grumbled. “I have no desire to hurt any of your friends.”

Anders snorted again. “I think some of them might incite that desire in you either way. Velanna is not particularly… friendly. Towards anyone. And Justice… well, he’s a possessed corpse.”

“A what?”

Anders shrugged. “He might ask you a lot of… really personal things. Pointed questions. If you can’t answer them, it’s best to say as much. Sigrun’s a gem, though, if a little over-curious.” 

“Sounds like quite the group.” Anders chuckled. “Yeah. Rashia’s group of misfits, that’s us.” 

“I still look forward to meeting them. The possessed corpse, however…”

“Yeah, I’ll explain that one later. He’s not a demon, I promise. Just a spirit trapped in the body of a dead Grey Warden. Other than his skills with a blade, he’s mostly harmless.” Fenris grunted. “We’ll see. Forgive me if I and not overly thrilled at the thought of meeting that one.” Anders sighed, putting down the comb. “Right. Given your background…”

Just then, a knock came at their door, and Nathaniel’s voice came through from the other side, calling them to dinner. “Well,” said Anders, giving Fenris a hopeful look, “that’s our cue.”

And with that, they got up and left with Nathaniel for the mess hall.

* * *

Dinner at Vigil’s Keep was less like a formal dinner and more like a free-for-all. As the three of them approached the hall, Anders was going over the ways he could quickly coach Fenris on how to gather his food before someone else ate it, but when they entered the room, conversation ceased and everyone turned to glance in their direction. 

Nathaniel grunted. “Hey, quit the staring, alright? Geeze. You people.”

At this, everyone turned back to their food and conversation resumed, and they wandered from table to table, gathering the foods they desired before sitting down. It didn’t take long before one of the others who hadn’t been in the receiving hall when they arrived came over to investigate. 

“Hi, the name’s Sigrun!” The round-faced dwarf slid into a seat across from Anders and Fenris, her expression rather unusually perky for a supposedly “dead” person. Fenris inclined his head to her in acknowledgement. “I am called Fenris,” he replied. “Anders tells me that you are the least frightening of his friends.”

He grinned, and Anders scowled at Fenris. “That’s not what I said…” he grumbled, but Sigrun merely giggled. “That’s sweet of you, Anders.” She turned her attention back to Fenris. “I’ve seen naga before, in the Deep Roads. None like you, though. Most of the Deep Road naga are pale and feral. Some of them fight with the Legion, the ones that aren’t quite as wild. You’re an oddity, though. Where’re you from?”

“Tevinter,” Fenris grumbled reluctantly. Sigrun’s face went blank immediately, a brief expression of shock showing before she smiled cheerily at him again. 

“Ah, I see. Sorry about that. Good thing you’re free of those bastards.”

Fenris shrugged. “Sort of. I doubt they’ll come find me so far south, but I was… something of an investment.” He showed her some of the brands embedded into his skin. “All of this is lyrium.”

Sigrun’s eyes widened. “Whoa. How are you not dead? Even the mining caste dwarves sometimes go loopy from coming in contact with raw dust, and we’re naturally resistant. You shouldn’t be alive.” Fenris shrugged, and resumed cutting his meats as Anders was doing. “Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that the ritual that gave me these burned out all of my memories from before the brands, and that they allow me to pass through solid matter.”

“Ooh, neat. Can I see?”

Fenris sighed, and Anders gently rubbed a shoulder against Fenris’ side. “I told you she was a bit over-curious. You might as well show her, if it’s not too painful.”

Sigrun frowned. “They hurt? Shit. Well, yeah, they’re lyrium, so I suppose they do.” She shrugged, holding up her hands sheepishly. “Hey, if it hurts to use ‘em, don’t. Sorry I asked.” Fenris shook his head. “No, it’s alright. I… it also reminds me of how I once enjoyed being in my master’s service, obeying his every command. I was his plaything, his bodyguard, his occasional entertainment. However… you are not him, nor his apprentice or their friends. Do you have a bottle with a cork, perhaps?”

There was some brief rummaging before Sigrun produced an empty liquor bottle from somewhere, cork and all. Anders gave her a curious look with one raised eyebrow, and she jerked her head back at Oghren.

“Velanna and I wanted to see who could knock him out with one of his old bottles a few nights back, just after you left. I made the mistake of letting her go first, so now I just… kind of have this now.” Anders snorted. “Nice.” Fenris chuckled, taking the bottle and putting a spoon inside, corking the bottle. He rattled it once before setting it on the table and pressing his thumb and index finger against the glass.

Then he briefly lit just the brands on that hand, phasing through the bottle to pull out the spoon, leaving the cork untouched.

Sigrun whistled appreciatively, and Anders noted that Velanna was staring pointedly at them from the other side of the room, as was Justice. Anders studied the spirit possessed corpse more intently, as he suddenly recalled Justice’s affinity for the stuff. Could he hear the call of the Fade when Fenris’ markings were lit? Would that cause the spirit to finally become a demon?

Desire was, after all, the greatest temptation of the lot.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on the spirit, just in case.

Anders’ attentions were brought back to Fenris and Sigrun when he heard Fenris mention something about mating. “Mating?” she asked, glancing at Anders. “I dunno. I don’t know too much about that. The naga that fought with the Legion didn’t speak much, but I think there might be some books in the library about that.” She grinned, chuckling. “Is that what happened between you two? By the Stone, I’m actually curious how that works out.”

“Very carefully,” Fenris deadpanned, which earned him a cackling fit from the dwarf. Anders groaned. “I’m never going to hear the end of this…” he mumbled into his plate of food.

Sigrun’s curiosity sated for the moment, the dwarf left them alone for a while. However, it felt like just a few short moments later that Anders looked up and noticed that Velanna was gone from her spot across the hall, only to have her show up in front of them with her usual glower.

Anders yelped. “Geeze! You… don’t make noise, do you?”

Velanna made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. “All the better to kill darkspawn with, _shemlen_. You should try it sometime.” Then her attention abruptly shifted to Fenris, who both mages had realized was… growling, very softly. Upon realizing this, Fenris shook himself and inclined his head to the elf as he had done to Sigrun.

“You must be Velanna,” Fenris began, grinning wolfishly up at her, as she stubbornly refused to sit at their section of the table. “Anders tells me that _you_ have quite the stunning personality. An entire blazing sun of a disposition, as opposed to Sigrun’s shining rays.”

“And you are Fenris,” Velanna replied, and Anders was amazed to see the slightest hint of a smile tug at the corners of her lips. “The commander was telling me about you earlier. She says you were stealing chickens from the _shem_ farmers.” Fenris grumbled. “It was not an intentional slight. I took no pleasure from stealing them. I merely needed the feathers for a nest, and the meat for food.”

Velanna tilted her head curiously at Fenris, as though she were studying him. Anders could feel the naga grow tense beside him, and he gently leaned against Fenris, hoping to soothe him.

“You look at me as though you have never seen one of my kind before,” Fenris hissed, still prickling under her sharp gaze. “I must tell you that such intense study does not agree with me and would ask that you cease doing so at once. It does not bring back fond memories.”

The elf’s eyes widened a fraction before she inclined her head to him in return. “I apologize. I have seen some of your kind before, but only at a distance. Few naga settle so far south because of the cold winters, and those that do live underground, fighting darkspawn with the dwarves. I meant no offense from studying you so.” She glanced at Anders and back to Fenris briefly before continuing, “I am curious, however, about certain aspects of your species…”

“I doubt that I can satisfy much of that curiosity,” Fenris warned her. “I recall very little beyond the ritual that gave me these,” he told her, showing her the markings. “Which is partly why I am here. I am hoping to satisfy my own curiosity with whatever information the library here can provide… once Anders has taught me to read.”

Velanna grunted, jerking her chin at Anders.

“Well, there are worse you could be tied to, I suppose.”

Anders blinked at her owlishly. “Is that… was that a compliment?” Velanna made another dismissive sound in his direction. “Don’t hold out hope for more,” she grumbled, scowling as she left. Fenris chuckled quietly.

“She is perhaps not as terrible as you make her out to be, you know.”

“Ugh,” Anders groaned. “It’s your ears, I promise you. If they were more like mine I doubt she’d be as forgiving.” Fenris merely shrugged and started in on his food once more.

Time passed, and Justice had yet to approach either of them throughout the entirety of dinner. Anders wondered at why, though he had trouble discerning the spirit’s thought processes even on their good days, rare as they were. Rashia however was staring at him intently, discreetly, calling him over. He glanced in Fenris’ direction, and she shook her head.

Just him then.

Anders turned to Fenris. “Rashia wants to talk to me alone. I’ll be back as soon as we’re done?” Fenris nodded, nuzzling at the spot where the bite was nestled at the juncture of Anders’ neck beneath his Warden robes. He wondered whether or not that was a naga version of a goodbye kiss, but had little time to dwell on it as he slid into the seat next to Rashia.

“You wanted to talk to me?” he asked her, receiving a barely perceptible nod in response.

“I wanted to see for myself if you were alright.” She frowned at him, concerned. “I’ve never seen you act like you do now, before. I’ve been worried for you.” Anders sighed deeply in relief. “As am I, Rashia. I promise you, I’m not being held against my will in this, but tonight will have been three nights since Fenris and I had sex in that cave. There are… things about me that have changed. Physical things. I don’t know if they’re even reversible.”

“Physical things?” she asked, baffled. “What physical things?”

Anders gave her a look. “Fenris was going to lay eggs in me, Rashia. What sorts of things do you think?” She glanced down briefly, her cheeks flushing, before she met his gaze again. “So you have a… really? How does that work?”

He explained to Rashia what he had discovered, and her expression shifted from horrified to curious as he did so. “Well, at least you won’t have to deal with cycles, I guess?”

Anders scowled. “A small concession, that. I can’t feel that it’s there just by touching, but I _know_ that it’s there. It just… bothers me when I think about it too much. Still, it’s not like it was Fenris’ fault that his body’s desires overwhelmed him and picked me for a mate…” Anders sighed, feeling tears prick at the edges of his eyes.

“Anders?” Rashia asked softly, touching his shoulder gingerly. He nodded at her. “I’m alright, Rashia. I mean, emotionally I’m a mess because it feels wrong to enjoy the way this connection between us makes me feel, but physically I’m fine. I think.”

Rashia studied him for a long while, taking a deep breath before she spoke again.

“Why do you feel that it is wrong to enjoy how he makes you feel? Is it because he’s a naga? Or is it because you think he might regret his choice later?”

“The second thing,” Anders answered, “but rather that I worry he will regret that he _didn’t_ have a choice in the matter, and that if this bond is a permanent thing, he will eventually resent being stuck with me should he find someone that he would’ve been more compatible with or something.” Rashia sighed. “I don’t think that he is the resentful type, Anders. And I think that you’ve got a bit of Circle rhetoric rattling about in your head there, telling you that you’re not worthy to be loved. You _are_ , you know. Just talk to him. Communicate.”

Anders felt his lips quirk upwards in a slight smile.

“He’s been doing that already, actually. Asking for my consent, trying to keep me calm. He can sense my feelings and nearly know my thoughts from them. It’s… a little terrifying, and at the same time, weirdly endearing. I don’t know how to feel about any of it.”

The hand on his shoulder began to rub at him gently in reassurance.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you what to feel,” Rashia told him evenly. “But if I have to order you to communicate with him, then I will. Seriously, talking to one’s partner is paramount.”

Anders scowled at her playfully. “I know that, Rashia. I’m nearly ten years your senior, you know.” Rashia shrugged. “All the more reason I shouldn’t need to repeat myself, old man.” She stuck out her tongue and he stuck his at her right back, the two of them descending into a fit of laughter that was interrupted by a now familiar glow from across the room. Anders’ head whipped up, and he saw Justice sitting across from Fenris, the naga’s brands shining bright.

“I, um,” Anders stammered, “I should maybe go over there before something bad happens–thanks for the pep talk!”

He got up and scampered over to where the two were sitting, and when he stumbled to a stop next to Fenris, he noted that while the naga was tense and defensive, he wasn’t growling or hissing at the spirit. In fact, he seemed to relax when Anders appeared by his side, if only slightly. Anders glanced up at Justice who sat serenely, eyes closed, hands folded in his lap.

When the spirit opened his eyes, he was calm. He nodded to Fenris and said in that quiet, rumbling voice of his, “Thank you. However, I shall not ask this of you again. It would be unjust.”

Fenris frowned, shuffling uneasily in his seat as the light of his brands flickered out.

“How do I know that you will keep this promise?” Fenris asked the spirit, and Justice sighed.

“You do not. I could promise not to ask again, but you would have to take me at my word like any other mortal and trust that I will keep that promise. I find leaving such things to the whims of others a rather troublesome practice, and yet I also marvel at how mortal beings can stand to make such promises and have them made _to_ them everyday without going mad. Regardless, I am thankful for the opportunity to hear the song of the Fade again. I shall not trouble you any more, for the rest of this night, at least.”

Fenris sighed, nodding slightly. “Very well. I shall do my best to trust in that promise, for now.”

Justice got up and walked off, and Anders slid into a spot next to Fenris.

“So, I see you met Justice,” Anders began slowly. Fenris nodded, his eyes still following the spirit as he slunk out of the room and went off to do whatever it was that he did in the evenings.

“I have,” Fenris replied in a low voice. “It was… an enlightening experience, for certain. You were right in that it would ask… personal questions. However, it has a strange forwardness to its mannerisms that I do not often see in others that I wish I did. I am still unsettled by it, but I do suppose that I can no longer say that my feelings towards it are entirely based in my previous experiences with possessed beings.”

Anders stared at Fenris, blinking owlishly for a moment before nodding.

“I… see. I don’t claim to understand, but…” Anders flashed the naga a hesitant smile. “At least everyone’s still alive?”

“For now,” Fenris told him with a wolfish grin. “I’ve yet to decide whether or not to poison the other dwarf’s ale.” Anders snorted. “Oghren? Ugh. Please don’t. It’s hard enough keeping Justice smelling as wonderful as he does, we don’t need another corpse to worry about.” Anders returned Fenris’ grin with a chuckle as he took a sip of his own drink and added, “Especially since Oghren already smells at least twice as bad as Justice on his bad days, and Oghren’s the one with a _living_ body.” 

Fenris snorted. “Point taken. I shall refrain from entertaining my plans to murder the dwarf.”

Anders glanced around and looked for where Nathaniel had gone off to. Eventually he found the archer being strangely chatty with Velanna on the other side of the room, but Anders’ desire to go and interrupt their conversation was cut off by Fenris leaning up against him and sighing contentedly. Anders glanced over at the naga, who looked right back at him curiously.

“Is this alright?” Fenris asked him innocently.

It was very alright. Fenris’ weight against him brought back that feeling of warmth and safety from the other night, and a part of him wanted nothing more than to sink into it and meld himself to the naga practically lying across his lap. In front of everyone.

“I want to say yes,” Anders whispered back. “Part of me still thinks I should be sneaking around, having a quick wank in the infirmary or pleasuring you behind a bookcase before the Templars come looking, maybe having a tumble in my bunk before it’s my turn on patrol. I think that same part of me is still screaming that I shouldn’t be so open with my affections, that I shouldn’t dare to… to love.”

Anders bit his lip, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but the pain was enough to keep his words going. “No mage I’ve known has ever dared to fall in love,” he sighed wistfully.

Fenris pulled himself up to nuzzle against the place where the bite still lay hidden, and Anders had to hold back the quiet moan of relief that nearly escaped him. “So you fear losing me, do you?” Fenris murmured. “Maker, yes,” Anders replied just as quietly. “It would kill me to lose you. I don’t know why. It’s been three days, Fenris. Three days and I’m head over heels for you.”

“This unsettles you,” Fenris observed.

“It does,” said Anders, nodding in confirmation. “And it kills me to know that you feel the same and I don’t have the confidence that we will still feel this way about each other anywhere from tomorrow to next week or several years from now.”

“Perhaps we should retire for the evening and sleep on it. Then, when we wake, we shall ask one another if our feelings have changed. If they have not, we go about our day, then rinse and repeat. How does that sound?”

Anders felt the knot that had been tying itself tighter and tighter in his chest loosen and fade as he let Fenris’ proposal sink in.

“I am a little tired,” Anders finally said after a while. “Sleep sounds good. And, regardless of our feelings in the morning, I want to start teaching you to read.” Fenris nodded and began extricating himself from Anders and their place at the table. “An excellent plan,” he agreed. And the two of them slipped from the mess hall without much notice, with Anders falling into the bed after divesting himself of everything but his undershirt and trousers, and Fenris following suit, shucking his tunic with the rest of Anders’ things.

Once the eggs were safely secured in the nest of Fenris’ tail, Anders took the naga into his arms, and quickly fell to the call of the Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tumble [here](http://timesorceror.tumblr.com/). Come say hi. Oh, and [here's](http://hikarinovikki.tumblr.com/) where I stuff all of my naughty posts. :P
> 
> This was right around the time I was still trying to decide what to do about Justice, because those events go VERY differently in this fic than they do in canon. Thus, the reason for giving Naga Fenris the ability to slow Anders' corruption.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Anders and Fenris settle into a strange new life together, the Warden leaves for Weisshaupt, and later her replacement arrives with some additions to the Wardens of Vigil's Keep.

The following morning, Anders awoke to Fenris watching him from atop his chest, chin resting on his folded arms.

“Good morning,” Fenris purred. “How fare your feelings this morning? Do you still love me?” 

“With all my heart,” Anders couldn’t help but confess, a slight thrill of fear lancing through him at his own words. “And you?”

“My desire to please you has yet to fade. I love you still.”

The thrill of fear was quickly chased away by a soft fluttering sensation in his chest as he swore his heart skipped a beat. “So, remind me,” Anders whispered as Fenris crawled further up his chest until they were face to face, “what happens now?” Fenris sighed contentedly and pressed the tips of their noses together.

“Now we go about our day. You mentioned teaching me to read?”

Anders nodded when Fenris pulled away to study him, likely searching his expression for signs of… something. “Ah, yes. We should figure out some other things for you to do…”

“How does a Warden’s day normally play out? I cannot become one, but I could always stay on as a warrior.” Anders tilted his head curiously at Fenris as he shifted to lean back against the headboard. “You know how to use weapons? Which ones?”

“Anything long and sharp, really,” Fenris answered, his expression one of what appeared to be intense thought. “I prefer using greatswords, however. There’s more heft to them, and I tend to find maneuvering about a battlefield easier when holding one because of my tail.”

“Rashia might have something for you to use. She uses a magic technique that allows her to wield most blades like they’re toothpicks. She taught me how to do it, but I’m not that great at it.” Anders told him, shrugging. Fenris hummed in acknowledgement. “Perhaps you should practice with me. I would enjoy watching you sweat.” The naga flashed Anders a wolfish grin that sent a shiver of arousal down his spine. It wasn’t enough to bother going through the trouble of wanking, but Anders could feel the self-satisfied amusement that wasn’t his filtering through the haze of his early morning thoughts.

“I would enjoy seeing you fight as well,” Anders countered, testing the waters by offering the naga a grin of his own. “All of that glistening iridescence shining bright for all to see… sweat dripping off your brow… and it’s all mine behind closed doors.”

To his surprise, Fenris blushed. It started in his cheeks and blossomed outwards until it reached the tips of his pointed ears and had begun making its way down towards his chest.

“H–How does the rest of your day usually go?” Fenris stammered.

Now it was Anders’ turn to be smug, but he wrapped his arms around the naga and began gently massaging the small of Fenris’ back with his fingers, hoping that his brazen words hadn’t been too upsetting. “Well, usually I get up even earlier than this, before the sun rises. If I’m the first one up, I just do staff exercises until someone else joins me. Usually it’s Nate, but sometimes it’s Velanna or Sigrun. I’ve never seen Justice spar. Once, it was Oghren. He’s a berserker though; sparring with him is hard on the body no matter how good you are.

“Anyway, if I’m not the first one there, I’ll go through the same exercises with the sword, so that we can spar afterwards. After sparring is breakfast, check the roster to see who’s doing morning and evening scouting, then we scatter. I don’t do scouting as much as the others because I’m the only full-time mage healer Vigil’s Keep has right now, not including Rashia, but sometimes I still have to go out on patrol. Some patrols take longer than a day, sometimes several days if we’re out investigating something.”

“Like when you went out to find me,” Fenris supplied.

Anders shrugged and rolled out of bed to start the process of getting dressed. “Yes and no. But yeah, that’s the gist of it. At some point there’s lunch, look at the roster again. Do your duties. Dinner. After dinner we’re pretty much free to do whatever as long as we’re present during breakfast at some point the next morning.”

“Do you find that sort of thing… restricting?”

Anders paused, having just finished getting the Warden tabard over his head. “I don’t know. A little. Rashia lets us make trips to Amaranthine to go out for drinks or purchase things with the stipend we get. I don’t know if it would be safe for you to go until we tell the city guards about you… but, you know. It’s enough.” Anders sighed. “It’s better than what I had in the Circle. I get to see the sun, the sky. Feel the wind in my hair and if I want, the rain on my skin. I’ve got a cat, too. Didn’t have one of those in the Circle. Well, not one of my own, anyway.”

Ser Pounce-a-lot came out from wherever he’d been hiding and began to wind around Anders’ legs. He bent down to pick up the cat and began cooing at him. Eventually he put Pounce down on the bed, where he curled up next to the makeshift nest that was the lower half of Fenris’ tail, and began purring up a storm.

Anders smiled fondly at the little creature. “He likes you. I’m glad.”

“You aren’t worried that I’m going to eat him?”

Anders scoffed. “Nah. I believe you about the fur thing. It’s bad enough when he gets into my towels and I end up with a mouthful of fur when I dry my face after a bath.”

Fenris snorted. “I shall do my best to keep a close eye on the towels then, seeing as we’ll be sharing them for the foreseeable future.” As Anders was finishing getting dressed, Anders watched the naga ponder over the eggs again before deciding to put them back in the sling after dressing in a fresh Warden-standard tunic.

“Still protective of them?” Anders asked, to which Fenris nodded. “The impulse is wearing off somewhat. Our connection, however, has not. That makes me wonder… things.” Fenris frowned. “But let us not dwell on those things now? I would like to see these blades your commander has at her disposal. A routine… would be nice.”  
  
Anders nodded. “A welcome change from always being on the run?”

He offered Fenris a tired smile, which was returned with a blush and a shy chuckle. “Yes, very. Thank you for your understanding.” Anders merely shrugged and waved him off. “It’s the least I can do. Really. First though, before we see Rashia, are you hungry? I’m _starving_.”

Fenris grimaced. “I know. I can feel it. Is this… a Warden thing?”

Anders laughed as Fenris slid off the bed and joined him at the door. “Yeah. How do you think we fuel that legendary stamina of ours? Takes lots of food. Among other things,” Anders purred, winking suggestively. Fenris rolled his eyes.

“Food, Anders. Then we go see the Commander.”

“My, my. So bossy. I think I could get used to this.”

Fenris groaned as they left the room for the mess hall once more, but Anders swore he could feel an undercurrent of mildly amused fondness beneath the front of disgruntled annoyance. It brought a smile to his face to know that Fenris cared so much about his wellbeing. No one had cared this much about him since… well.

It was nice, being cared for. Not only that, but deep down Anders knew that now he had it again, he had no desire to give it up, and neither did Fenris.

He supposed it couldn’t hurt to see where this led, if he felt like this every morning.

* * *

It took about a day or so to establish a routine to their new lives, beginning with a morning ritual of asking if they still had feelings for each other, and if those feelings had changed at all.

Then they would go out to the practice yards and run through their forms together, sometimes sparring with each other, sometimes with whoever go up to train with them. Anders, true to his word, rarely had scouting duties on account of his status as the keep’s only permanent healer, so they used this time to begin teaching Fenris the basics of reading. Fenris was an eager and quick student, memorizing the characters and their patterns in almost no time at all.

Anders did still have to leave the keep occasionally, so if Sigrun wasn’t going scouting with him then she would keep Fenris company in the library while he worked, practicing writing letters and reading short sentences from books that Anders had selected for him. They weren’t what Fenris was looking for, however the contents were interesting and they helped him learn.

Usually they would convene for lunch, check the roster again, and go back to the library if time allowed, or sometimes Anders would have him come work on his reading in the infirmary while Anders took stock of their inventory and brewed batches of things they were short on.

Another thing about the days that followed was that over time, Fenris’ protectiveness of his eggs faded, and that first morning it had finally left him, he dragged Anders to the kitchen and commandeered a copper bottomed pan to fry some of the eggs so that he could feed them to Anders. When it had become obvious what Fenris intended to do, Anders felt his heart give a strange flutter, nearly making him swoon.

“You really don’t have to–” Anders had tried to insist, but Fenris offered him a piece of golden white scrambled naga egg on a fork a mere inch away from his lips. The smell made his mouth water, just a little.

“I do,” Fenris sighed, nearly despondent. “I feel like I have been… neglecting you, these past few days? I do not understand the impulse, but if you could humor me for just a moment…” He caught Fenris’ gaze and immediately Anders’ heart had ceased fluttering and decided instead to melt into a puddle on the floor.

Anders had never been a dog person, but suddenly he understood the appeal of puppy eyes.

“Oh, I–alright fine,” Anders conceded, shifting uneasily before Fenris gently pried his lips open with the egg-laden fork.

The instant the eggs hit his tongue, he moaned softly. They were so light and fluffy that they practically melted on his tongue, and there was a distinct taste to them that was neither sweet nor salty and yet was absolutely divine. He didn’t even know that he’d closed his eyes until he heard a soft chuckle of amusement and they flew open. More saliva filled his mouth after he’d chewed as slowly as possible before swallowing.

“Would you like another?” Fenris asked, and Anders could see a soft flush to the naga’s cheeks that he was certain was reflected on his own face. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he let himself be fed. It was strangely erotic, which made Anders shift a little in his seat.

He met the naga’s eyes, and the irises flickered between human and snake-like for a few moments; Fenris fluttering his eyelashes at him. Anders knew that Fenris could smell his arousal. Eventually he swallowed his last bite, and that was immediately followed by a steamy kiss that left Anders breathless.

“You–you know you could’ve just told me if you were feeling frisky,” Anders breathed. “I, ah, I definitely wouldn’t have minded.”

Fenris merely gently nuzzled his nose in response. “That wasn’t my intention, exactly. My only desire was to feed you, to provide for you. Just as you have done for me.” Anders frowned, brows pinching slightly. “Are you certain? I rather think that it was Rashia’s generosity that has made you a place here.” Fenris shook his head, insistent. “But it was you who defended me, despite your misgivings and hesitation.”

He smiled, and brushed away a stray lock of hair that had escaped Anders’ ponytail.

“I shall keep in mind that you like it when I feed you, however. For later, perhaps?” he purred, and Anders felt his face flush again.

Anders was unable to fire off a reply to that however, for that was when the cooks started to head down to prepare the usual morning breakfast. Anders and Fenris left then to arrive late to the sparring yards, where they resumed their routine for the day.

Time passed, and eventually a couple weeks had gone by and the time had come for Rashia’s departure to Weisshaupt.

The realization that his dear friend was leaving felt as though a spike of ice had driven itself through his heart. When the morning of the day she was to leave dawned, bright and clear with few clouds lingering in the sky above, Anders curled in close to Fenris, suddenly very glad that he was not alone in his bed.

“What is wrong?” Fenris asked Anders as he shivered against the naga, sobbing softly. Anders didn’t know, exactly, so he merely told the naga about exactly how Rashia had saved him by conscripting him, and his fears about her leaving. “I am afraid something terrible will happen after she leaves, but I don’t know why I feel this way. Am I wrong to feel this way?”

Fenris sighed, stroking Anders’ hair as the mage trembled against him.

“I could not tell you if that were so. I have never known friendship, aside from what it is that we have. However, even should my feelings for you fade, I would not allow any harm to come to you. Fear not, dear Anders. I have you.”

At those words, Anders was filled with Fenris’ fierce conviction that was strong enough to even drive away most of his melancholy.

“Thank you, Fenris,” Anders whispered. He pulled away, and fixed the naga with what he hoped was a tender gaze as, for the first time, he broke protocol with their usual morning rituals. “It gives me no greater joy then than to say that my feelings for you have yet to wane. Do yours remain as mine do?”

“They remain as surely as the sun rises and sets each morning and evening,” Fenris replied, having briefly appeared surprised at Anders’ confession before recovering quickly and returning the favor by offering his reply.

That morning was more solemn than most, and breakfast was a rather somber affair despite Rashia joining her Wardens from her usual place at the head of the tables and spending her last meal at the keep in the midst of her friends. They said goodbye to her at the gates, and she gave each of them a few moments to exchange a few words. She left Anders for last, and when she came to stand in front him, with Fenris hovering close by, she glanced at the naga.

“Keep him safe for me, won’t you?” She asked, a hint of weariness in her voice.

Fenris nodded. “I shall,” was all he said in response.

Then she flung herself at Anders, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I am not abandoning you,” she whispered to him in his ear. “I am going to come back. Stay safe, my friend. I miss you already.” She pulled away and fixed him with a stern, yet soft stare, her lips pulled forward into an almost childish pout.

“I expect you to be here when I return! If you are not, I shall be very put out.” 

She grinned, and Anders chuckled. “I’m going to miss you too,” Anders whispered in return. “Stay safe. Don’t talk to any strange healers on the road! They might be more likely to give you a disease than cure one.” He winked, and she smiled at him sadly. “I shall remember that, thank you. And do remember to talk to Varel about writing the Denerim Circle for your phylactery? That was where mine was sent, and perhaps yours is there as well. It is ours by rights, now that you’re a Warden. They’ll do well to be reminded of that.”

Anders nodded seriously. “I will remind him. Now go before we start to make a scene.”

Rashia snorted. “You? Make a scene? Never!”

Anders grumbled, but she flashed him one last smile before turning around and mounting her horse. She shifted in the saddle for a few moments before snapping the reins and squeezing her thighs against its sides, and as she rode off, she turned back to wave at them until they were too far away to see her. 

Those who had stayed to watch her leave didn’t dare move for a few moments until Varel came calling for them to look at the day’s roster. It jarred them out of the spell her departure had left them under, and slowly they turned back inside and began to go about their duties once more.

“What happens now?” Fenris asked Anders later that evening as they were settling down for bed. Anders sighed deeply. “Now we wait for her replacement to arrive, and they will be acting commander in her stead until she comes back. I think Nate’s acting as Arl in her stead, though, since he knows politics. He hates it, but even Varel agreed it was the most logical choice.”

Fenris chuckled, sliding onto the bed and wrapping a thick blanket over his upper body and Anders’, being sprawled over the mage as he was.

“It will be amusing to watch him argue with the nobility, won’t it?” Fenris asked, and Anders’ lips twitched into a slight smile. “Just a bit, yeah. So perhaps it won’t be so terrible of a time, as long as the new commander’s alright.”

“I do hope they will be… welcoming,” Fenris grumbled, and Anders pressed a soothing kiss to his forehead. “As do I. You’re learning to read fairly quickly, so we should be able to start delving into some proper research soon. I would like to help you learn more about your species, for you and myself.”

Fenris nodded quietly. The issue of Anders’ added innards still concerned them, and its functions were among the pair’s top questions to answer.

They hoped that the arrival of this new commander wouldn’t disrupt their progress much.

Another couple of weeks passed, and it was around this time that Fenris had progressed well enough into his reading that they were able to begin their research into Fenris’ species.  However, just as they were settling down for another morning of quiet reading, a horn sounded in the distance that made Anders tense.

Fenris put down his book and turned to the mage.

“What is it? A summons?” 

Anders nodded. “Yes,” he breathed. “It means that an important visitor has arrived and that all of the keep’s Wardens and staff are to head to the receiving hall.” Fenris sighed, and set down his book. His expression twisted into one of annoyance, but when Anders reached along their connection, he could tell it was tempered by a deeply ingrained sense of duty to follow orders.

“Very well. We should not ignore the summons, then.”

Anders and Fenris arrived at the hall a short while later, standing close to the few other Wardens in the keep. Seneschal Varel stood in Rashia’s usual place, waiting to receive the new commander.

“Hey Sparkle-fingers,” Oghren hissed, and Anders raised an eyebrow at the dwarf. “Yeah, what?” He prepared himself for another round of ridiculous banter, but was surprised when Oghren replied with, “I hear the new guy’s Orlesian. One of those poncy moustache types.” Anders merely stared at him, dead-eyed.

“Alright. So?”

“So he’s the perfect storm of joke fodder, skirt. I figured you’d be chompin’ at the bit to rail at this one.” Anders shrugged. “Parents raised me better than that, I suppose. For the time they had given to them, anyway.” Oghren sighed. “You still in the dumps about Rashia?” Anders nodded. “Yeah. Look, any other time I’d be right there with you, but I’m not really feelin’ the patriotism at the moment.”

To Anders’ ever increasing surprise, the dwarf merely nodded. “I get’cha. Haven’t even been able to drink properly since she left. Being sober sucks sodden nug balls.”

Anders grimaced, but couldn’t help but laugh. “Gee, thanks for that image, Oghren.”

Beside him, Fenris also let out a soft chuckle. “I was wondering why you had begun to smell something close to tolerable. I thought it most unlike you.” Oghren snorted. “Heh, no problem, Sparkle-fingers. And I’m flattered you were so concerned about my well being, Broody.” Fenris grumbled. “I do not _brood_.” 

“Well,” Anders began, “you kinda do. Just a little. I think it’s kind of sexy though.”

“Hey, keep that to the bedroom kids,” added Oghren. “No, no, please do keep going,” insisted Sigrun, who had been lingering nearby, listening in on their conversation.

“Quiet now,” Nathaniel hushed them when the doors to the receiving hall began to open. “You can gossip later. Best to pay attention.” They all quieted immediately as the doors opened and a man of about average height with a slightly disheveled, dark-colored undercut and moustache walked in. Anders tilted his head and considered the man. It was an impressive moustache indeed and its very existence _almost_ made him want to poke fun at it. Almost. 

“Senior Warden Jean-Marc Stroud,” Varel greeted him. “It is an honor to receive you. You are Warden Commander Rashia Amell’s temporary replacement, I take it?”

Stroud nodded curtly. “Yes, I am. And you must be Seneschal Varel. Your service to the Wardens is to be commended, despite not being a Warden yourself. The Hero of Ferelden is a lucky commander to have you.”

Varel smiled stiffly. “Such high praise. I do not deserve it.”

“Nonsense,” Stroud insisted. “It is well warranted.” He straightened his stance and glanced behind him to where their motley group of Wardens stood in a line, beginning with Justice at one end, followed by Velanna, Nathaniel, Sigrun, Oghren, and finally Anders and Fenris on the other. Stroud’s gaze lingered on Justice and Fenris for a few moments longer than everyone else, but he turned back to Varel without comment.

“I am glad that your missives reached me before I arrived. I had known that many Wardens were lost in the residual horde waves after the Archdemon was slain, but I hadn’t anticipated so few at my arrival… or that they would be comprised of such an unusual collection of warriors.”

“Warden Commander Amell was literally left with nothing when she arrived shortly after the castle was overrun. These few who stand before you, with the exception of the naga and the… Fade Spirit, they were the only recruits to survive the joining. A motley group they might be, but I assure you that as a unit, they are a force to be reckoned with. And the only reason there are not more of them is that the Arlessa did not wish to put a selection of new recruits through the joining and have to leave them so early in their training.”

Stroud nodded, turning to them and facing them with a military stance.

“Of that, I have no doubt. However, I am glad that I brought a small selection of Wardens with me. This keep should certainly have more recruits and patrols so that our best are not overworked. I have even brought another healer with me, as I was told there was only one?”

Anders stiffened as Varel gestured to him, nodding. “Yes, that would be Warden Anders.”

“The one bonded to the naga?” Stroud asked incredulously. Varel frowned. “Yes, Warden Stroud. I believe that was mentioned in my last letter. Warden Commander Amell’s instructions to me were clear: I was to make certain you knew that under no certain circumstances should either of the two be forced apart. In fact, Fenris is an exceptional warrior and, while he cannot be made a Warden, is still an asset to this post.”

Stroud glanced at Anders and Fenris, and Anders could feel the simmering heat that was Fenris’ dislike of others studying and appraising him as one might a prized thoroughbred.

“That remains to be seen,” Stroud said evenly, to which Varel drew himself up to his full height that was even taller than the new commander. 

“To you, perhaps,” Varel told Stroud sternly, glaring at the mustachioed man. “However, I must remind you that your status as commander here is a temporary one, and therefore I must follow Warden Commander Amell’s instructions in this matter. This includes acting on her behalf, if necessary, even should you disagree with her assessment.”

The two men stared each other down for a few moments before finally, Stroud inclined his head and sighed. “You are correct, Seneschal. I apologize for slighting you so. Again, I must commend you for your dedication. It is rare to find loyalty such as yours.”

Varel inclined his head towards Stroud in return. “That is quite alright. There is much that needs to be discussed however, but before we call in your Wardens I should like to introduce you to Warden Nathaniel Howe, who is acting as Arl for the whole of Amaranthine while the Arlessa is away.” Nathaniel stepped forward and shook Stroud’s hand, and Anders watched as the two mean assessed one another.

“Nathaniel Howe, son of the former Arl Rendon Howe?” Stroud asked, and Anders thought he could almost see a twitch at the corner of one of Nate’s eyes.

“It gives me no pleasure to admit that, but yes,” Nathaniel answered. “Commander Amell hopes that by giving me the responsibilities of the Arling, you will be able to focus on the recruitment and training of new Wardens for Vigil’s Keep. It is also her hope that we will be able to work together whenever possible.”

Anders raised an eyebrow, suddenly full of astonishment. He’d known that Nathaniel had been born nobility, but it appeared that he had been trained as one too, to a certain extent. This was evident by the way he spoke and held himself as he addressed Stroud, and Anders suddenly recalled all the times that Rashia had held herself as she spoke to the feuding nobles of the arling. He wondered if Nathaniel had taught her to do those things, as she likely hadn’t learned them in the Circle.

No, that was a different political training altogether, one more akin to the Game that was played in the households and ballrooms of Orlais’ wealthy and political elite.

Still, Nathaniel’s performance seemed to have impressed Stroud, as the man at last nodded in agreement after a while. “It is my hope as well, Warden Howe.” Nathaniel frowned. “Nathaniel will do. I would rather be known for my own mistakes, not my father’s.”

At this, Stroud actually chuffed. “A powerful sentiment. Warden Nathaniel it is.”

He glanced down the hall through the open doors and motioned for someone to step forward. 

Or rather, several someones. Several wardens, six in total. Two warriors, three rogues, and a single mage. The mage was a tan elf with bright red hair tied back in a ponytail and markings inked on her face not unlike the ones that Velanna wore. What had she called them… _vallaslin_?

“These are the Wardens I brought with me who will also be helping me with recruitment and training,” Stroud introduced them. “We should allow them time to become acquainted before lunch, when, should all things go well, we will have an updated roster for the afternoon. Would that be doable, Seneschal?”

Varel nodded and mumbled something that Anders could not hear. Clearly, he was not happy at having to revise the day’s schedule, but he appeared to have no other choice in the matter.

After this, Stroud was officially pronounced the new Commander for the duration of Rashia’s absence, and he disappeared with Nathaniel and Seneschal Varel shortly after the Wardens were dismissed and told to “mingle for a bit” before lunch convened at a later time. 

“So,” Oghren grumbled, glancing over at the Wardens that Stroud had brought, “who gets to show the newbies around?”

“Not me!” Anders said immediately, grinning. “I’ve got a healer to show to the infirmary. The rest of you lot can deal with the others. Oh, and Fenris is coming with me.” Velanna grunted. “I’m coming too. I wish to talk with this elf.” Anders shot Velanna a curious look, but all he got back in return was a hard stare that brokered no argument.

Oghren grumbled again. “Mages. Fine, guess I’ve gotta suck it up then and show these newbies what’s what.” Beside him, Sigrun bounced cheerily on the balls of her feet. “I’ll help! I can show them around!” Then she paused, and glanced back at Justice. “Um. Do you… want to help? I mean, I don’t know how they’ll feel about, um… you doing that though.”

“It might perhaps be wise for me to remain nearby, but not too close,” Justice commented. “Though I cannot smell, I am aware that this arrival interrupted our usual preservation session. It is likely that my presence will not be overly desired.”

Sigrun sighed. “Yeah, you are a little ripe. We can do that thing later though, after lunch maybe if neither of is on patrol.”

“Neither of you nug-humpers are helping,” Oghren huffed under his breath before turning to Anders. “You run along then, show the elf around that infirmary of yours. I’ll hold down the fort here with the two stiffs.” Anders snorted, and the elf mage who was approaching them caught a little of his remarks, and she appeared concerned.

“Stiffs?” she asked, rather quietly, and in a heavy accent that wasn’t Orlesian. Anders frowned, trying to place it, but to no avail.

Anders shrugged. “Justice is a spirit who’s been trapped in the body of a dead Grey Warden for a while, and Sigrun used to be part of the Legion of the Dead. The dwarves who fight in the Deep Roads with the Wardens, on occasion. They’re like… spiritually dead, or something.” He glanced at Sigrun. “Do I have that right?”

“Close enough,” she shot back, and Anders turned to the elf to grin sheepishly. “So, yeah. Dead. Stiffs. But anyway, I’m Anders. I should show you to the infirmary.”

She nodded, shaking his hand when he offered it.

“Harea,” she told him. “And I would like to see what this keep has at its disposal.”

She gave Fenris and Velanna a cursory glance, but she spoke exclusively with Anders as they made their way to the infirmary.

“So, about that accent…” he began once they’d turned into the infirmary.

“Starkhaven,” Harea answered. “I studied at the Circle there for… a long time.” She frowned, pursing her lips and glanced back at Velanna. “And before you ask, I’ve never been part of a clan. My parents were Dalish, though. They were apparently traders that had stayed in the city to establish a rapport with the market there, but my magic manifested before their clan could come back around to reconnect.”

Anders sighed. “So the Circle it was, huh?”

Harea nodded. “My mother apparently broke protocol by giving me these before I was… handed over.” She gingerly touched the markings on her face with one hand. “I have never known how to feel about my supposed heritage. Or the Chantry.”

“Did your parents’ clan have a name?” Velanna asked, to which Harea gave a half-hearted shrug. “Lavellan, I think. Once, after the Starkhaven circle burnt down, I thought about trying to find them, but I ended up becoming a Warden instead. Long story, that. I’d rather not get into it, if ye don’ mind.” Harea’s accent thickened a little as she hunched in on herself, giving Velanna a fixed stare.

Strangely, something appeared to dawn on the other elf’s face and she backed away, nodding.

“I suppose I shall leave you to it. Someone should go clean up whatever mess that dwarf is making in the receiving hall.”

Anders snorted. “Good luck with that.”

And once more, to his utter astonishment, Velanna grinned at him. “I suppose, where Oghren is concerned, I’ll take what luck I can get, _shem_.” And she slunk out of the room, likely heading back to find where the other Wardens had gone off to.

“I told you she was not as terrible as you made her out to be,” Fenris muttered, looking rather smug. “Hush you,” Anders shot back, scowling. Harea giggled, and the sound made Anders whip around to see her hiding half a smile behind one hand. “You know, I hadn’t really been able to understand how you two… could be together, after Stroud received that letter. I see it now. You compliment each other. Like how a fine wine can elevate a well braised nug on occasion.”

Fenris tilted his head at Harea. “You see much. And I find it interesting that you do not study me as Velanna first did when I came here. You’ve seen… some of my kind before?”

Harea nodded.

“In the Free Marches, naga are… neither pets, nor wild creatures that hunt Darkspawn in the Deep Roads. In the Circle, I didn’t see many of your species, but after I stumbled my way into the ranks of the Wardens, I saw more. They are more like the Dalish, no matter what kind of naga they are; they mostly sort of hover on the fringes of towns and cities and trade with people when they can. I have seen _some_ naga in the cities I’ve been to; I vaguely remember some being in Starkhaven when I was young. But it is a bit like seeing one of the Qunari among so many–a rather rare occurrence.”

Fenris sighed. “So you do not know much about how we function then?” She shook her head sadly. “No, I’m afraid not. Is there something you wish to know?”

“Just… stuff about mating, in general,” Anders answered. “Like whether it’s permanent, what happens with, um. Fertilized eggs between cross-species matings. I’d rather not have to figure that stuff out by just… trying things.” He glanced back at Fenris and sighed, shrugging. “Don’t get me wrong, the sex is great, but I don’t know about the whole… breeding bit.” 

“No, I quite agree,” Fenris said assertively. “That thought has been weighing on my mind for some time as well. Eventually, I _will_ have another cycle.”

“Perhaps then,” Harea suggested, causing both of their heads to turn, “the best course of action would be to discuss what to do should a cycle occur before you have discovered anything. I mean, I say this from a purely medicinal standpoint. As a healer.”

Some knot in Anders’ chest loosened a bit, and his conscience settled.

“That is actually excellent advice, thank you. I wonder why I hadn’t thought of it before…” 

“Too preoccupied with, um… fantastic sex, I assume?”

Anders felt his face flush, and Harea descended into giggles again. “Judging by your face, I would assume so,” she cackled, and even Fenris managed a slight chuckle.

“Well,” he said, sharing a sheepish look with Anders, “she wouldn’t be entirely wrong.”

No, Anders conceded, perhaps not. 

The rest of the morning was spent showing Harea the infirmary stores, where he kept the ingredients and brewed potions. There were even a few surgical instruments that he’d had Wade procure for the keep after having read about them in some of the books Rashia had given him. Fenris watched all of this with curious eyes from his position in the singular, high-backed chair near one of the windows.

After that, was lunch. That was when the new patrol roster rotation was posted.

Anders scowled at it, seeing that he was on patrol with two of the new Wardens. At least he had Sigrun on that patrol as well, though when he told Fenris about it, he could feel the naga’s resentment simmering across their connection though his face was as expressionless as ever.

“I do not like this… Stroud,” Fenris grumbled. Anders shrugged. There wasn’t really anything they could do.

“I don’t either, but it’s not like this is going to be forever. A couple months, perhaps?” 

Fenris huffed. “Do you know how far the Anderfels _are_ from here?” Anders shrugged again.

“Actually, no. Despite the fact that my name is Anders, I’m not actually from there. My father was, and that was all the Templars remembered after they’d dragged me to Kinloch Hold. I do know it’s probably going to be longer than two months, though. Rashia said at least six, maybe a year. I’m not stupid, Fenris.”

“I–” Fenris stopped himself, then sighed deeply. “I did not mean to insult you. I… I am…” 

“Angry. Frustrated. You’re going to miss me. And they might make Sigrun go too, so you’d have to study in the library alone. I know. I’m going to miss you too.”

“I’m still sorry.” 

Anders brought the naga into a hug, and pressed a quick kiss to one cheek. “Don’t be. It’s okay. I knew things were probably gonna change around here, but I didn’t know how much, exactly.”

“Change is difficult to acclimate to, even when you know it is inevitable.”

“Yeah, what you said.” Anders replied, flashing Fenris a sympathetic smile. “Tell you what, you could always go study in our quarters. The bed still smells like us.”

Fenris sighed. “No, that will only make me miss you more. I shall go to the library, as before. Do not worry, I am merely annoyed, not distraught. This will simply take some adjusting to. For both of us.” Anders sighed. “Yeah. Well, I’m gonna go collect Pounce and head to the barracks with the others. With luck, I’ll be back before dinner and we’ll have a nice bath later.”

Anders gave Fenris another quick kiss goodbye and turned away to go find Ser Pounce. The ache in his chest hurt, but it was not unbearable, and as the afternoon passed, it gradually eased. The two other Wardens he and Sigrun had been assigned to were rather polite, if a little distant. Anders had let his contentment filter through his connection to Fenris and was rewarded with a feeling of gratitude.

The change in their routine was unpleasant, true, but for the moment they had found a way to make it work. This gave Anders hope for the future, hope that they could find more about Fenris’ species. He didn’t want to think about what they would do if they couldn’t, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it: together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tumble [here](http://timesorceror.tumblr.com/). Come say hi. Oh, and [here's](http://hikarinovikki.tumblr.com/) where I stuff all of my naughty posts. :P
> 
> Just trying out the training wheels of an OC of mine, Harea. In another life, she becomes the Inquisitor, but here she's just a Warden.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which a recruitment search for new Wardens is announced and not everyone is happy about it, some snake dicks get licked, and Anders realizes he is about to be screwed in more ways than one.
> 
> The reference I used for this version of Rolan is [Kevin McKidd](http://scenelouisiana.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/Kevin-McKidd2.jpg).

More time passed. About a month, to be precise. Despite their initial dislike of Stroud, a new routine was established, and though Anders was now on more patrols, he never had overnight patrols without being asked to take them. Their new commander had actually taken the time to speak to his new charges, as well as Fenris and Justice.

Justice disturbed him a little, an admission he had confided to Anders after one conversation, but he felt confident that Anders was doing whatever he could to help the spirit return to the Fade. What Anders had not told him was that he had been lax in his duties on that front, so while he waited for a reply to the letter Rashia had sent to Avernus at Vigil’s Keep, he would peruse the library shelves for any texts that could help him in the meantime while he helped Fenris with _his_ quest for knowledge.

And on that front, some progress had been made concerning their search for information on the naga species, much to Fenris’ delight. It was not about mating, however.

“I thought you would be disappointed,” Anders had idly commented one morning as he perused the shelves, Fenris slithering excitedly next to him, pushing the ladder he was stood on. The previous day they had finished a book that had detailed various differences between the naga subspecies, which had brought to light that elven naga like Fenris tended to exhibit elven traits in regards to their behaviors and mannerisms. 

“I am, a little,” Fenris confessed. “But still, we learned so much, did we not? We even learned about how my particular coloring was likely the result of a very peculiar breeding.”

Anders had smiled a little to himself, basking in the glow of Fenris’ excitement.

Their connection had evolved as well, over this time. With less time spent together physically came the need to develop the deep connection between them. Anders suspected that it could likely go beyond the emotions they were now comfortable sharing and communicating with, but even Fenris balked a little at the thought of having another in his head.

“My captors liked to send me into the Fade so that demons could have their way with me,” Fenris had confided after a discussion about their connection’s potential for thought sharing.

“I was always… protected from possession,” he had continued, “but my mind was left to their devices on occasion, just for their viewing pleasure. Sometimes it was also done while I was _being_ pleasured. They found that particularly… _fascinating_.”

Anders had not been sure how much of the resulting anger that had filled him after that had been Fenris’... or his.

For now, it was hard to say, but he had at last become comfortable with the idea that he was essentially married to the naga. After a month of sharing emotions, living space, and the occasional night of mind-blowingly amazing sex, he felt more at ease with his feelings for Fenris, though they still began each morning with their ritual of questions.

It seemed almost too perfect to Anders. Usually, this was the point where he screwed up, or got screwed over. Some evenings, after Fenris had succumbed to the call of the Fade, he would lie awake wondering when exactly the Maker was going to decide to pull the rug from beneath him.

After that month was over, another change came to Vigil’s Keep.

“Good morning, Wardens,” Stroud greeted them at breakfast. All twelve of the Wardens, thirteen including Fenris, nodded in acknowledgement with an answering, “Commander Stroud.” 

“I have decided now that all of you have become used to training and patrolling with one another, we should begin bringing in more recruits to bolster the Keep’s ranks. There should be at least a hundred here, not including the soldiers that serve the Arling. I feel it is time we went out to the city of Amaranthine and did some recruiting.”

Harea, who was sitting near to Anders and Fenris, jerked her head at Stroud and addressed him, holding his gaze.

“There’s no Blight on, Commander,” she pointed out. “We’re not likely to get so many.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Nathaniel cut in after finishing a bite of some thick, meaty stew. “Rashia chose to defend the city during the residual darkspawn invasions, and I was with her when she made that choice. The people there are thankful for our sacrifices because we nearly lost the Keep by defending them, and they might just be more than happy to repay us by volunteering a few Warden recruit hopefuls.”

Anders had also been there, much to his reluctance at the time. He’d seen their looks of relief as well, however, and Nathaniel was right to point out their gratefulness. He wasn’t sure how much he liked the idea of going out and doing recruiting, though, since he knew he’d likely be one of the people chosen to go and it would be difficult convincing Stroud to let Fenris tag along.

The other Wardens that Stroud had brought with him seemed to agree that it was time to go out recruiting, with the exception of Harea, who had gone quiet. She didn’t continue to voice any concerns or express her obvious discontent, however. 

It was harder for Anders to tell whether everyone else felt one way or the other, despite that he’d spent so much time with them in the past half year.

“Do the Wardens truly need so many?” Fenris asked him quietly while Stroud continued to speak about how he would post the list of the recruiters at dinner and so on. Anders sighed. “I mean, there is a lot of space in the keep. Though this was Nate’s family home once, it is a _fortress_ , not a castle. And there’s really no other place in Ferelden that I know of besides Fort Drakon in Denerim that would be able to house a sizable collection of us.”

Fenris grumbled. “I… don’t think that’s the answer I’m looking for.”

Beside them, Harea huffed. “I think you’re asking about why we need so many, right?” Her accent was thick, a sign that her tempers were flaring. “Well, pretty much all of Ferelden’s Wardens were killed just before the Blight got into full swing. That Loghain fellow betrayed the King and the Wardens and left them to die at Ostagar, where the horde first really started to do some damage. An’ now the Blight’s over, but another could always crop up at anytime, but Weisshaupt doesn’t want to take any chances by leaving Ferelden without a sizable force.”

She grumbled into her flask of mead, took a good stiff drink, and set the flask on the table with a gentleness that Anders knew by the sound of her voice that she likely did not currently possess.

“I worry what trying to force such a mass recruitment will do, whether they are willing or not.”

Anders worried too, though he did not voice his concern. Fenris likely felt it however, as Anders noticed when a gentle wave of reassurance swept through him like a mental embrace. He turned to lock eyes with Fenris, who was sitting next to him, his long tail draped over the seat of the table and draped again across Anders’ feet. Anders could feel the tapered end of the tail wrap comfortingly around one leg, like a strange, almost tender game of footsie.

“Perhaps that is not what Commander Stroud intends,” Fenris proposed, though Anders could tell from the trepidation that leaked through their connection, that Fenris did not feel as confident in his words as he sounded. It worked on Harea, however, who nodded slowly and sighed.

“I have been in the service of Ser Stroud for some time,” she admitted reluctantly, “and I’ve yet to see him make any dire mistakes as a leader. Perhaps you are right and I should trust that he knows what he is doing.” Anders sighed. “Yes, well, he’ll likely have me be a part of this… recruitment party. I’m not looking forward to that.” Nor was Fenris, he could feel it.

Harea frowned, biting into a bit of bacon and eggs.

“How so?” She asked, waving her fork at him. Anders sighed again. “Because I was there when Rashia went to defend the city. Nate’s probably already mentioned that, and having one or both of us there will probably help with the recruiting.” Then he glanced at Justice, who was deep in conversation with Sigrun at the other end of the table, closer to where Stroud was wrapping up his speech. “I doubt Justice will be there, even though he was with us.”

Harea glanced at Justice, then back at Anders, and she shrugged. “Well, he _is_ possessing a corpse. Warden corpse or not, Stroud probably prefers having some, er… live Wardens doing the recruiting, yeah?”

Beside Anders, Fenris snorted. “Makes sense,” he said, chuckling.

At least he could count on Harea to keep Fenris company, Anders thought. Still, when dinner came and the roster was posted, he wasn’t surprised to see his name up there with Nathaniel’s and two of the Warden warriors, Susanna and Kyle. Apparently they had helped organize recruitment efforts before under Stroud’s instruction, and Anders decided there were worse people to be trudging out all the way to Amaranthine with.

“It looks like you were right,” Fenris had sighed, and Anders leaned over to pull the naga into a hug. “Try not to say that too often,” he chuckled, “or I might just get used to it.”

Fenris scoffed. “Of course you would make light of this. But… that appears to be how you deal with uncomfortable situations, so for you I suppose I can make an exception.” The naga frowned and glanced back at the roster, tilting his head.

“When do you leave?”

“Knowing Stroud?” Anders began, thinking for a moment. “Tomorrow afternoon, probably.” He glanced over at Nathaniel, who was heading off towards the mess hall. “Nate!” Anders called, and mercifully the archer paused and glanced behind him. “Yeah? Oh. We leave in the afternoon. It was the latest I could get Stroud to give us.” And with that, he shrugged and continued on towards the hall.

Anders looked at Fenris, tilting his head as he shrugged. “Well, there you have it.”

Fenris hummed. “Right again, I see. You deserve a reward.” The naga’s voice was a low, sultry purr that had Anders almost wanting to abandon dinner and slink off to their quarters. He shivered, knowing that Fenris was quite certain of the effect his words had had on him. “Oh? And what sort of reward might that be?”

Strangely, the timbre or the naga’s emotions shifted from brazen coyness to an almost shyness that had Anders gently turning Fenris to capture his lips in a kiss.

“I–” Fenris began, haltingly, “I think I’d like to show you how to pleasure me, tonight.”

“Oh?” Anders gently pressed, offering the naga a wry smile. “That is quite the reward indeed. I’m looking forward to it, then. Yet, as much as I’d like to run off and get straight to it… I think we should eat first. I’m starving.”

* * *

“May I ask why you waited until now to show me how to do this?” Anders asked as they were laying down on their bed. Fenris sighed and squirmed a little in what Anders guessed was frustration, or embarrassment. There was bitterness there too, he thought. 

“Because I am still not entirely sure it is safe… but I wish to try anyway. You will be gone a long time, and I will miss you terribly. I want to…”

“...leave me with a souvenir to remember you by?” Anders finished, watching the ensuing flush on Fenris’ cheeks. “You want to mark me, make me yours?” Fenris grunted, quickly moving to drape himself across Anders’ chest and press his lips against the faded bite mark.

“Yes,” he hissed, breathing heavily, causing a full-bodied shiver to course through Anders. “Even though no one will likely understand why, I want them to know you are taken, that you are _mine_ ,” Fenris growled softly. “My apologies if this makes you uncomfortable. You have told me that the Templars of the Southern Circles say similar things when they used you as I was used by my captor, but I still feel these things, regardless.”

Anders shrugged, and ran a soothing hand down the naga’s naked back.

“I don’t know, it feels different when you say it,” Anders confessed. “It’s kinda hot, actually. Turns me on a little.” Anders gently ground his still clothed lower half against Fenris, who was likely very aware of the beginnings of Anders’ hardening erection. “So tell me, how do I pleasure you?”

“I need to bite you first,” Fenris told him as he pulled away to capture Anders’ gaze, his pupils blown wide and halfway between the change from human to snake silts. “You should be fully aware of yourself this time, but you’ll still be a little numb in places.” Anders caught a glimpse of Fenris’ incisors sharpening and beginning to drip with a slimy, viscous liquid. Some part of his very human hindbrain caught this and his body stiffened, but another gentle nuzzle from Fenris had him relaxing again almost immediately.

“It’s alright,” Fenris soothed him. “It’ll be over in just a moment.”

Fenris moved quickly after that, biting into Anders’ neck so fast that Anders barely had the time to register the pinpricks of pain and the strange tugging of flesh there. His blood was pumping so quickly and his heart beat so fast that the strange numbness flooded him almost instantly. His thoughts cleared when Fenris pulled away, and that was when he registered how incredibly turned on he was. How turned on _they_ were. His lips tingled, and his mouth tasted odd, as though it were full of some sweet liquid instead of saliva. 

“Ok, I think I could get used to this… this feels amazing, Fen,” Anders breathed.

“Good,” Fenris chuckled, “You’re still lucid. I was worried that I might’ve given you too much.”

“Too much of what?” 

“Whatever toxin I’ve theorized will let you take me into your mouth. I’m not certain though if I should dare to try both, considering what happens when I finish.” He frowned, and Anders tugged impatiently at the scales on his hips. “You’re not trying to mate me, right? I think I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

“Tell me the instant something becomes uncomfortable. Tap my left ear, twice. Or the small of my back. Alright?” Anders captured Fenris’ lips in a slow, sweet kiss and nodded slowly after it was finished. “Tap your ear twice. Yeah. Got it. Now roll over and let me work my magic, love.”

Fenris slid off to the side as Anders shifted to face him, removing his trousers and smalls before Fenris’ tail wound itself around Anders in the way that he just _loved_. They had discovered it by accident one morning when they had woken to find Fenris’ tail completely wrapped around Anders’ body and both of his legs, and that was exactly what Fenris was doing now. However this time, Fenris brought the very end of his tail to lay in between them, and just over two feet from the very tip were Fenris’ penises. 

“You know, this is the first time I’ve gotten to see you up close,” Anders whispered, gently stroking the forked length. It was a little slimy, but it didn’t feel any different than oil or magical lubricants did. Strangely, it had a pleasant musk to it too that made his mouth water, producing more of that sweetness that had replaced his saliva.

Fenris groaned as he threw his head back onto the pillows, and Anders couldn’t help the thrill of pride that rushed through him, followed by the echo of Fenris’ pleasure. 

“I’m going to taste you now,” he told Fenris, feeling emboldened by Fenris’ reaction to just being stroked. He grasped Fenris’ tail and pulled it closer so that he could bring Fenris’ members on level with his mouth. The moment he took one in between his lips his tongue exploded with flavor, and both of them let out low moans of pleasure. Fenris was muttering things that Anders couldn’t quite catch, so with great reluctance he pulled away and glanced over at his partner.

“Everything alright, Fen? It’s not too much?”

Fenris lay there panting for a few heartbeats before catching Anders’ gaze and shaking his head slightly. “No,” he managed to say once he’d caught his breath, “I’m fine. It’s perfect, you’re perfect. I’ve just… never experienced this before. It’s so… intense.”

“As long as you’re feeling alright,” Anders murmured as he bent to lick a stripe up from the base of the forked length before choosing the right path towards the smooth head. Unlike human penises, Fenris’ had no mushroom cap per se, and no foreskin. There were the barbed ridges at the base of each length, but strangely they didn’t feel sharp when Anders ran his tongue over them, and the entire organ was covered in a pleasantly scented fluid that caused Anders to salivate like crazy through whatever Fenris had injected into his system.

Meanwhile, Fenris’ upper body was writhing in the throes of pleasure that the naga had confessed was entirely alien to him. Anders hoped that he would tell Anders if it became too much, because his thoughts were starting to become muddled by his own arousal combined with Fenris’ emotional echoes.

For the moment however, Anders was content to watch the naga writhe in pleasure as he gently nipped, licked, and sucked, even daring to take both of Fenris’ penises into his mouth for a few brief moments, relishing in the fullness of their weight on his tongue. That, however, got him wondering what it might feel like to have both of them inside himself, perhaps even while he was inside Fenris, if that were possible.

He pulled away just as Fenris’ lengths were gaining an interesting thickness, the barbs stiffening, but not to a point of pain. When Fenris finally came into focus through the haze of his pleasure, Anders saw that the elven naga was so absorbed in his own pleasure that he’d thrown his head back into the pillows and his hands were furiously working at the perky nubs of his nipples, likely hoping that the extra pleasure might speed him faster towards completion.

“Hey love,” Anders murmured, voice thick and husky from arousal, “I’ve got an idea, and I want to know if it’s possible.”

Fenris’ hands stopped for a moment, but they twitched a little, as though eager to continue their onslaught on his own chest. “W–What is it?” he asked, panting. Anders grinned. “Is there a way that I could fuck you while you’re fucking me? Or is your entrance too close to these lovely beauties?” He reached up to give Fenris’ forked length a featherlight stroke, making the naga shudder with pleasure.

“There’s–should be enough room,” Fenris replied, and Anders swore he could feel the naga’s heart beat even faster in anticipation. “But… to take both of them…”

“I can stretch myself if that helps,” Anders purred, releasing Fenris’ tail to reach blindly behind him, hoping to find the side table drawer where he still kept a vial of oil, for emergencies. “And you get to watch. I don’t think I’ve ever masturbated for you, have I? I think you’d enjoy it.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Fenris groaned, releasing Anders from the hold of his tail so that the mage could move about with more freedom. Anders, true to his word, made quite a show of his preparations, even going so far as to tease out an orgasm that splattered across the naga’s midsection in spectacularly aimed arcs.

Shortly after that display, Fenris’ tail began winding through and about Anders’ legs again, gently squeezing the lean muscles in warning.

“Alright,” he hissed playfully, “that’s enough. You mentioned us filling one another before the night was through… as delightful as it is to watch you pleasure yourself, I am suddenly overcome with the desire to please you as you have pleased me.” Anders nodded, feeling the naga’s desire running fast as hot through their connection, a mental mirror to how Anders certainly felt physically as the tip of Fenris’ tail went under and between his legs which were being held open by the rest of the naga’s tail.

Eventually, Fenris moved them closer to the headboard so that the naga’s upper half was pressed partially upright against the pillows and the distance between them was close enough that he could grasp Anders’ hands.

“Here, let me show you where it is,” he told Anders, bringing the mage’s fingers to a slit on the underside of Fenris’ tail. “Gently tease the flesh there,” he coaxed, and Anders did as instructed, and after a few moments of gentle caressing and prodding, the slit pulled back to reveal a puckered entrance. Anders glanced up, hesitant now.

“I must say, I am curious about… how you know this. Was it… something you…”

“It was part of my limited instruction about my species, yes,” Fenris sighed. “And that is also how I know there is no danger of an accident,” Fenris chuckled, likely feeling Anders’ worry. “My next set of eggs haven’t started forming yet.” Anders sighed, knowing that there was still a little apprehension running through his system. “Alright, as long as you’re sure.” Fenris reached up and stroked the stubble on Anders’ face with a near reverent gaze. “I’m sure. Now, I believe it’s time for you to… how do you put it? Ah yes. Take me to the Golden City and back.”

Anders chuckled, an amused rumbling tumbling past his lips. “As you wish,” he replied, and gingerly he slid his cock inside.

Both groaned with pleasure as he sunk, inch by inch. Anders gasped and panted at how different the sensation was from anything he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t as easy of a slide as it had been with his experiences with women, but nor was it quite the tight squeeze of a well prepared ass. There was definitely a degree of self lubrication that was more than a generous amount of oil however, and something about it made his entire length tingle like a storm primed with lightning. Then, once he was fully seated, he could feel the gentle press of Fenris’ forked length from behind.

“Need me to… hold myself open, just a little bit?” Anders panted, and Fenris nodded sharply. 

“It might help, yes, since I can’t see what I’m doing…”

Anders chuckled as he reached behind to pull his ass cheeks open a little wider and he grinned at Fenris, feeling like a cat that had got the cream. “I’m pretty sure you can see me, alright,” he laughed. “Right here, just where you want me. At least for tonight, that is.”

Fenris tsked at him, shaking his head. “That’s enough talking,” he purred. “From now on, the only things I want to hear are your moans… and my name.”

That was when Fenris pressed both lengths inside Anders’ entrance, and Anders doubled over from the exquisite pleasure the sensation elicited. In fact, he nearly came right then and there just from the feeling of being buried inside Fenris while also being doubly penetrated from behind. He pressed backwards against Fenris on instinct as white spots dotted his vision, and distantly he could hear Fenris moaning as he moved.

“Fen–Fenris,” Anders whimpered, “Fenris!”

He couldn’t form the words to describe the level of euphoria that held him suspended as he rocked back and forth in between Fenris’ entrance and the length inside him. He wailed and sobbed as another orgasm was pulled from him, the feeling of that familiar flaring locking Fenris in place driving him over the edge over and over again.

He could only assume Fenris was equally insensible, for all he could hear were various groans and moans and his name, mumbled again and again through the haze of his pleasure.

Anders reached out and pulled the naga close just before his finished for the final time, capturing his lips in a kiss full of desperation, as though if he kept kissing Fenris then this moment, this night would never end, and they would never have to leave. “Fenris,” he sobbed, “Fenris, I love you. I love you, I love–love– _ohhhhh_ …!”

A heartbeat later, his world shattered.

He collapsed against Fenris, shuddering and panting as the naga was doing much the same. All was quiet for sometime while they just lay there, Fenris slowly pulling out and Anders doing the same. Anders rolled off to the side and drew the covers up and over, a soft groan of protest escaping him as he moved to cuddle the elven naga.

“I feel… full,” Fenris murmured as they cuddled close to one another. Anders hummed in agreement. His belly felt tight, but not uncomfortably so. There was that strange longing again as some of the copious liquid that Fenris had ejaculated gently sloshed in the womb that somehow still remained inside him. “Yeah, same,” he replied in kind, yawning. “When I get back, we definitely have to try that again. If your next set of eggs haven’t started forming, that is.”

“No complaints here,” Fenris sighed contentedly. “And I love you too, by the way. My sweet mage. Thank you for convincing me to do this.” 

If Anders had any reply to give, it was lost to the call of the Fade. And for once, his dreams were not consumed by a deep, dark cell or the distant call of the darkspawn but instead Anders dreamt of warm surrounding him, the feeling of skin and scales against his skin, and an echoed whisper that spoke of safety, of belonging, and most importantly, of love.

* * *

A few days later, the farms surrounding the city of Amaranthine came into view of the recruitment party. Despite hating every moment that he was away from Fenris, Anders did have to admit that seeing the city when it wasn’t on fire and being overrun with darkspawn was a rather refreshing sight to behold.

Cities meant people, and people usually meant crowds that he could get lost in. Not that he needed to get lost in them anymore, but the thought was still comforting. Also, he could visit the apothecary to see if he had some of the more rare ingredients that he was getting low on, or perhaps that one bookseller had a few more books on anatomy or medicine. He even dared to hope he could find something on Fenris’ species, as much of a stretch as that might be.

He also promised Sigrun he’d look for some new trashy romance novels… or at least that was what he told himself anyway.

These were the thoughts that were turning about in his head as the four of them were approaching the city: himself, Nathaniel, and the two warriors that Stroud had brought with him, Susanna and Kyle. Susanna was a tall, stocky woman with dark eyes and darker hair. Kyle was a green-eyed redhead with an accent like Harea’s when she got passionate about something. Starkhaven, he guessed.

“So, how does this whole recruiting thing work, exactly?” he asked Susanna, trying to sound merely curious and not the nervous wreck he felt. “Like, could I still run errands for the clinic? There’s some stuff here that I need to see if the apothecary has in stock, you know.” At the sound of her name, Susanna glanced back at him from her horse. “Yeah sure,” she replied cheerily, “but we _are_ here to recruit. Don’t like, go off and have a binge drinking contest with the locals or anything.”

“What if winning such a contest would get someone to sign up?” Nathaniel cut in, and beside Susanna, Kyle snorted. “Heh. I mean, I guess?” Susanna thwacked him, and he groaned. 

“Damnit Kyle! Don’t go encouraging that nonsense! It didn’t work when you tried it!”

Anders snickered. “He tried what now?”

Susanna sighed, grumbling. “He made a bet with a local drunk that if he won a drinking contest then the guy would join. He lost because the idiot was already drunk, and then he was sick all over me the next morning.” She turned to Kyle and glared at him. “I’m never forgiving you for that, by the way. I swear, that tunic has not smelled right since.”

“You could try baking powder,” Anders suggested. 

“What? That actually works?”

“Some apprentices would get sick from nerves if they caught wind that they were being considered for their Harrowing,” he answered, nodding even though she could not see. “Others got sick if they were getting close to their twenties and had yet to be Harrowed–regardless, it happened often. Vodka works too, but I didn’t learn that until I met Oghren, and it wasn’t like the Templars would’ve let us have alcohol anyway. But baking powder? We were allowed that, and it does wonders for getting weird smells out of stuff.”

“Huh,” Susanna huffed, clicking her tongue. “I might try that. Thanks.” Then she turned back to Kyle and sharply wagged a finger at him. “I’m still never forgiving you.” She straightened once more in her saddle and glanced back at Anders and Nathaniel.

“Seriously though, don’t be like this idiot. Do what business you need to, but nothing that’ll get us in trouble with the guard. We need people to like us.”

Anders nodded, and as soon as they’d entered the city and bought a room in the tavern, he’d set out on his errands and came back as quickly as he could with his rare ingredients. The bookseller, however, was closed for the day and so he headed back to the tavern and listened to Susanna and Kyle explain how recruiting worked. 

In truth, it wasn’t that complicated. Each of them would first go about hanging fliers that had apparently been ordered from a printing press in anticipation for the endeavor. A few spaces had been left for them to write in the dates they would be available for sign-up, though between the four of them it hadn’t taken long. After that, it was merely a matter of getting the news out by word of mouth through whatever means necessary (excluding drunken betting, that is).

Anders immediately swore off the Chantry.

“The statue’s quite a looker,” he admitted to the group, “but I’d rather stay as far away from that place as possible. Mage, remember? Warden or not, I’m supposedly a sin against the Maker and all the world or some shit, so I think I’ll go elsewhere thanks.”

Susanna nodded. “Understandable,” she conceded. “Kyle, you grew up in a Chanty, didn’t you?” 

Kyle grumbled. “Yeah, and I hated it. But you’re better at talking to the guardsmen than me, so sure. I’ll get the Chantry mother and sisters to talk to the daily patrons about us. Should get some poor sods to sign up. Or some really weird zealots. I always hope those ones never survive the joining. Does that make me a bad person?”

Susanna had merely shrugged. “After what the last zealot in our group almost tried to do to Harea, I don’t blame you. Maybe if we’re lucky, we can pick up some Templar hopefuls who aren’t too off their rockers and haven’t taken their vows.”

Anders had groaned, but Susanna could only offer an apologetic look in response.

“Sorry friend, but it’s easier for the recruits to adjust if they’ve got weapons experience already.”

Out of habit, he’d glanced around before he remembered that they were in a sealed room on the second floor and he cleared he throat. “I was planning on seeing if… some of of the Mage Collective people might know some who’d want to join… and if not, then I want to go looking for people with potions’ experience. Any healing hands’d be welcome in the infirmary at the Keep.”

Susanna nodded. “We’ll take whoever you can find.” She glanced at Nathaniel. “And you? What’s your gameplan?” Nathaniel grunted. “I am uncertain. I thought I might… reach out to some mercenary contacts in the city. Do some walking about the general populace. Farms, market stalls, main thoroughfares. I mean, that’s why I volunteered; in case people remembered my face and might ask after the state of the Wardens.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Kyle mumbled through a mouthful of food. “It beats hanging about a Chantry, that’s for sure.”

Anders grinned, just a little bit. Though things had been rather quiet on the road, he slowly found himself warming up to these two. That feeling was what buoyed him through the long days and even longer nights that followed, as he still missed the naga keenly. Their connection seemed to hold strong despite the distance however, and it was the waves of comfort that they exchanged each night that really helped him go about each day.

Time passed, and the last day of their stay in the city came after about a week of talking to herbalists and healers, surgeons and hobbyist alchemists, Anders finally found the time to swing by the bookseller he’d been meaning to see.

He was inside the store, eyes scanning the shelves for anything that looked useful or interesting, and he happened upon a particular tome that was written in Tevene.

“Well hello,” he cooed in a half-whisper. “What are you doing here?”

His eyebrows rose when he caught a word that he recognized… something about biology. And reptiles, perhaps? “You might be useful,” he muttered as he picked up the book, and then a voice cleared just behind him, and he startled.

“Hey, ain’t that written in Tevene? You taking it to be burned?”

Anders clutched the book to his chest and whirled around to face the owner of the voice.

“I’m afraid the thought hadn’t occurred to me. I’m trying to help a friend, a naga, learn more about his species, you see. He’s a former pleasure slave, and I thought I… wait. Who are you? What are you doing looking at my taste in reading material?”

The man before him was tall, about Anders’ height if not a few more inches taller. Anders guessed he had an angular jaw beneath the wry red beard that covered his cheeks, and his hair was an undercut with the top hair a wry mass of red curls. Hard lines were etched into the man’s face, making him seem older than he was, though Anders estimated there was likely few years between them, perhaps four or five years at the most. 

“Name’s Rolan,” the man offered. “And I just saw you lookin’ at it and got curious. Anyway, what’s a naga?”

“Snake from the waist down,” Anders answered curtly, frowning. Something about this man bothered him terribly. “And either human, elven, dwarven, or potentially Qunari from the waist up, at least according to him. His former captor wiped his memory, so he knows very little about his biological functions, and since he’s pretty much joined up with us Wardens, I figured that as his healer I should know how his body works.”

The man shrugged, but Anders could see that something that he’d said to the man had intrigued him. “Wardens, huh?” Rolan grunted, studying Anders’ Warden uniform up and down while Anders bit the inside of his cheek to keep a potential insult from escaping.

“Yeah. If you’re looking to join, we’re recruiting. It’s our last night in town though, so come by the Crown and the Lion later if you’re interested.” He held the book tightly against his chest, and plucked three more from the shelves as he went along, heading towards where a young clerk stood warily watching their exchange. Clearly, something about Rolan bothered the poor kid too.

The large man followed Anders as he set his books on the counter and waited for the clerk to tally up his total. Rolan leaned back against the desk and glanced over at Anders curiously. 

“So, you happen to know a Warden named Anders?”

Anders’ blood ran cold. He coughed, trying to clear the dryness from his throat that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Um, I might. W–Why do you ask?” 

“Because his Commander killed my mentor, Ser Rylock. No one else was going to allow me to take my vows but her; everyone else said I was too “temperamental”. Bah! What a load of bullshit. Ser Rylock always said a good templar needs a good forceful hand to keep mages in line.” He looked away, grumbling furiously. “Anyway, now she’s dead and that mongrel’s responsible for it. Little shit needs to pay for what he cost me.”

Anders was quiet as he paid for his books and tucked them under his arms.

“Um, well, I’ve got to go. It, uh, was nice talking to you.”

Then he practically bolted from store and hoped to never see the man again. However, later that evening while he and his fellow Wardens were having a small celebratory dinner with their relative recruitment success as their cause for celebrating, the door to the tavern swung open and in walked the very same man who scanned the room once before spotting the four Wardens at their meal.

“You still signing up recruits?” Rolan asked as he approached. Susanna stood up and greeted him, and turned around to introduce everyone.

“I’m Susanna, that idiot with the ale is Kyle, Nathaniel Howe’s the archer, and the mage next to him is Anders.” Shit. Anders glanced up to meet Rolan’s eyes, and first he was met with surprise and shock. However, that slowly melted away and left a quietly burning fury in its wake that had Anders nearly trembling with fear.

He hated being right. He was most definitely screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tumble [here](http://timesorceror.tumblr.com/). Come say hi. Oh, and [here's](http://hikarinovikki.tumblr.com/) where I stuff all of my naughty posts. :P
> 
> Oh look, surprise OCs! They just sort of... cropped up out of nowhere. Useful things though, these two. Especially Kyle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Fenris is possessive, Anders worries about the future, and something wicked this way comes.

They left the following morning with some of the recruits that had volunteered to head back to Vigil’s Keep straight away instead of spending another week in the city with their friends and family. That week was mostly to allow the recruits time to think over their decisions or inform them of their leaving, but it wasn’t a requirement. 

Perhaps it should be for some people, Anders thought. The entire trip back Anders could feel the Rolan’s eyes boring holes in the back of his head. He did his best to stick with Nathaniel or even Susanna or Kyle, and he never took a watch that Rolan had volunteered for. He was a nervous wreck by the time they arrived back, and he could feel Fenris’ worry through the soothing waves that had filtered through their connection each night.

Fenris. Maker, he was likely beside himself worrying about Anders. For a moment, he almost wished their connection could share thoughts between them. He might’ve been able to explain his fear better than trying to use feeling alone to communicate his unease.

But that lack of communication was no longer a problem as soon as he caught sight of the naga upon exiting the stables. Neither bothered with being subtle; they ran (or in Fenris’ case, slithered) toward one another and embraced. The sensations of relief flowing between them were so palpable that Anders had difficulty remaining standing, and for the first time in several days, he finally felt that he could relax. 

“What’s had you so anxious these past few days?” Fenris grumbled, giving Anders a once over. “I was having difficulty restraining myself from going after you, not knowing what danger you might be in…”

Anders was about to reply when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck lift as a tingling swept through him. He turned around, and there was Rolan, glaring at him silently.

Anxiety welled in him again, but a touch to his back reminded him of Fenris’ presence, and he relaxed just a little. Anders shifted and cleared his throat. “Ah, hello Rolan. T–This is Vigil’s Keep. It’s not much, but apparently the only fort bigger is the one in Denerim, and that one’s taken, right?” He chuckled sheepishly. “So, um, we Wardens get this one.”

“Anders,” Fenris’ voice chimed in, soothing the rest of Anders’ restless nerves. “Where are your manners? Must I introduce myself?”

Fenris threaded one arm quite possessively around one of Anders’ and fixed Rolan with a hard stare. “You must be that snake thing this one’s supposed to be helping or whatever.” Rolan’s face twitched in a half sneer. “Figures that a mongrel would be fucking a mongrel.”

Anger flashed thick and hot through their bond, and not all of it was Fenris’. Still, Anders knew that allowing either of them to act on that anger would not result in anything good, so he did his best to caution Fenris using only his emotions. He was uncertain of how well that went over, because Fenris let go of his arm and approached Rolan without speaking, drawing his upper body to be on level with the other man’s.

Normally, Fenris kept himself at a height shorter than Anders, somewhere between six inches or a full foot shorter. It was more comfortable that way, though evidently he could hold himself aloft at higher heights, likely as some sort of an intimidation technique.

And it appeared to be working.

Rolan backed up a little when Fenris approached, though at some point he paused and tried to hold his ground while Fenris spoke.

“I am not a _thing_ , recruit,” Fenris spat. “I am a person. I might not be your same species, but I assure you that my existence is not the result of some magister’s sick experimentation. Naga are as natural as anything else in this world, as are mages like my mate! You would do best to remember that in the future.”

Anders glanced around Fenris in time to see the naga hiss, teeth sharpened and glistening, glowing eyes glaring snake slits at Rolan, who scrambled back and turned tail to run headlong into the stable again. He nearly bowled over Kyle as the man was coming out, and he glanced around confusedly until he spotted Anders and Fenris, the latter of whom had returned to their more comfortable height and was currently fussing over the former.

“Hey, what was that about?” Kyle asked, jerking his thumb back at Rolan.

Fenris growled, then scoffed. “He called Anders a name I was not pleased with. I appear to have reacted poorly.” Kyle frowned, glancing up at Anders. “What in the void did he call you? He seemed so… level-headed on the way here.”

Anders sighed. “He called me a mongrel. Fenris too. But Fen was more insulted about the slight to me than himself, I think.” He frowned, giving the place that Rolan had retreated to an uneasy look. “I don’t like him, though. He gives me the creeps.” Kyle glanced back at the stables and then turned back to face Anders with a shrug and a puzzled head scratch.

“You know what? He _does_ bother me a little bit. I couldn’t tell you why, but he does.” Kyle looked Anders up and down, studying him. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t like you; you’re a really neat person to be around…”

Anders chuckled sheepishly. “Ah, thanks Kyle. I’m flattered. But, um. I’m pretty sure he hates me because Rashia killed his mentor for trying to drag me back to a Circle for a branding.” 

Kyle gave a little start, his eyes going wide as saucers.

“Um. _What_? Why the hell didn’t you mention that?!”

Anders ducked his head and sighed, wrapping his arms about himself. “I didn’t know how to tell you in private. He kept interrupting our conversations every time I tried, or he found excuses to follow us when I tried to talk to you or Susanna…” Kyle’s frown deepened into a scowl.

“Ugh. It’s hard to believe that’s the same guy from the other night. Well, I’m not sure what can be done about it now. There’s always a chance the Joining will kill him off, and no, I won’t judge you for hoping he kicks it.”

“What if he survives?” Fenris asked, and both Anders and Kyle turned to look at him/

“The Joining is hell,” Kyle replied, his eyes staring off as though lost in a memory. “Some people acquire a whole new perspective on life afterwards,” he continued, “if they live. He might be a changed person after that. He might not. If not, well… I can ask Stroud to give him to me for training. See what I can do. Although, if even most of the Templars said he was unfit to watch Circle mages all day… I dunno. I kind of hope he kicks it myself now.” He scoffed. “Zealots.”

“Why don’t you mind it if these zealots… don’t survive?” was Fenris’ next question, and Kyle shrugged. “Because I was surrounded by them, growing up. I was pretty much useless at any skill the sisters tried teaching me except for swinging a blade, so Templar training it was… at least until the Grey Wardens came through Starkhaven. I joined up and never looked back. Best decision of my life.”

“Well, one less Templar in the world is never a terrible thing in my opinion,” Anders muttered, then looked up and added, “Uh, no offense.” Kyle shrugged again. “None taken. But hey, just try to take care of yourself okay? If he gives you any trouble, let someone know?”

“And what if he tries to kill me?”

Fenris growled reflexively, and Kyle sighed and stared at him for a very long while before replying. “Well, self-defense is a thing. Hopefully it won’t come to that though.”

Kyle gave Anders what the mage assumed to be a reassuring pat and walked off, leaving him standing there with Fenris. He sighed. “You know, it’s my fault that that nutter is here,” he told Fenris. “I told him about the Wardens before he knew my name. Figures that every time I’ve got something good going for me, I screw it up.”

Fenris grunted. “Nonsense. If there is to be any screwing, it is to be between us. And speaking of which… do you need to be anywhere at the moment?”

Anders flushed, suddenly understanding what Fenris was getting at once he registered the feelings that were filtering through their bond. “Oh, well… no, I don’t think so. I do have a few books I need to put away though first. I hope you don’t mind.”

“As long as I don’t have to leave your side. I’ve missed you so.”

“Me too, Fenris, me too.”

* * *

Three more weeks passed. Anders thankfully saw very little of Rolan during that time, but he had a feeling that was soon to change.

About a week after their recruitment party arrived with the recruits that had elected to come straight away, the rest of them followed. Two more weeks passed as the recruits were personally evaluated by Stroud and Nathaniel, though mostly Stroud. One evening Nathaniel came to sit with Anders and Fenris and was eerily quiet.

“Rough day?” Anders remembered asking. Nathaniel grunted, and sighed.

“There’s this one recruit. Tall redhead with the weird grin.”

“Rolan? Please tell me you’re not letting him take the Joining.”

Nathaniel sighed again. “It’s not as simple as that. He… unsettles me. Reminds me of this dog my father used to keep… he’d beat it and terrorize it for the sole purpose of brutalizing other dogs into submission. Delilah implied once that she thought he might’ve been using it on people later, but that’s not important. Either way, the dog was creepy, and so is this Rolan. Not to mention the things he says about mages…

“I’ve had to tell the mage recruits to be careful around him. You and Harea need to be careful too.” Anders grunted into his drink. “Don’t need to tell me twice. He already hates me because Rashia killed Ser Rylock, his mentor. Apparently she was the only one who was willing to approve him to take his vows.”

“What? Shit. Stroud needs to know that.”

“He already does,” Fenris cut in. “He said that if he was truly unworthy of being a Warden, then the Joining would reject him.” His lips peeled back with a quiet snarl. “It’s a load of bullshit, if you ask me.” Nathaniel sighed, nodding. “I agree. Stroud seems to put an inordinate amount of faith in the Joining as a tool to filter out the nastier recruits. Even the Wardens he brought with him don’t entirely share his… belief in this.”

“So Rolan’s still going to take the Joining?”

Nathaniel had nodded. “Yes. Just… be careful, alright?”

That seemed to be all that people would tell him these days. Fenris and Harea were the exceptions, though Harea never explicitly told him otherwise. Fenris was quite vocal about his disapproval, but only in the quiet of their private rooms. He sensed that his disapproval would do little to help the issue if he called attention to it, so all they could do was wait for the Joining ceremony to commence and continue with their research.

After two more weeks passed, they had made steady progress through the book about reptile anatomy. It was slow work, given that it was entirely written in a very old form of Tevene, but the contents were definitely promising, given that one of the later chapter entries had been simply titled “Naga” in the the table of contents. However Fenris insisted on reading the entire book, in case there were things the other chapters might be hiding. 

Anders had begun reading another of his new books, one of Genitivi’s travelogues, but this one was about the Avvar tribes, strangely enough. The book began by detailing the Avvar’s belief system in which they regard the spirits of the Fade as their gods, and their mages act sort of like intermediaries between them. There seemed to be more about this connection, so Anders elected not to skip around. He didn’t want to miss _anything_ that could potentially help Justice.

Between his research for Fenris and Justice and his new anatomy book (which Harea also enjoyed looking over), he was able to sufficiently distract himself from thoughts of Rolan, though his nights were sometimes not as successful.

Even good sex wasn’t always quite enough to keep Rolan out of his mind at night.

And then came the day of the ceremony. 

Anders wasn’t present, as he was in the infirmary, waiting for the survivors to be brought in so he could look them over, and tend to the ones that had passed out, but still lived.

His blood ran cold when Rolan stumbled through the door, Susanna pressing a gentle hand at the center of his back to guide the man inside. Rolan seemed to be rather out of it, and didn’t really appear to register that it was Anders who was examining him, but Anders didn’t want to be around when he came to. So he pronounced the man “woozy, but alive” and had him quickly shuffled back out so he could look over the next patient.

Later that evening, he clung to Fenris, for once being the one to wind around the elven naga instead of Fenris winding his tail around _him_. His face was pressed to the inside of Fenris’ neck, his lips pressed against the warm skin while his teeth gently worried at the flesh.

“Things will be fine,” Fenris cooed, reaching up to trace the bite mark on Anders’ neck with his fingers. And, in the safety of their little cocoon, Anders could almost believe that.

This was only the calm before the storm, Anders thought. But some part of him also thought that if his mate was confident that they could whether it, then perhaps they could. They might be drug through fire and flood first before that happened, but perhaps it was possible.

* * *

Almost immediately, his resolve in Fenris’ confidence was tested.

The survivors of the Joining had been given three days for recovery before the new training and patrolling rosters were put up. Anders and Fenris had gotten up early to see them, and Anders breathed a sigh of relief to see that he was only being given mages for morning training. Patrols had to be a little bit more balanced, but thankfully he didn’t have any with Rolan.

Yet.

Anders sighed, and it was at that moment that Rolan happened to be passing by, flashing the mage a wicked grin during a brief moment where Fenris was looking away. It was a grin so devious, Anders thought, that he swore the man’s eyes flashed like that of a predator. He looked… hungry, and that thought unsettled him more than the grin had.

No one should be able to look so… predatory. Not even the worst Templar scrutiny had ever felt like that. He shuddered, and _that_ Fenris noticed.

“Anders?” the naga asked, frowning. Anders shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said, and then added, “At least, I think it’s nothing.” Fenris scoffed. “You don’t believe that. I can tell.” Anders sighed again. “Yeah, I know. I suppose it’s nothing in that there’s little we can do about it.”

“Rolan?”

Anders nodded. “Well, we should get going. I need to see what our mages can do.”

“I suppose then that I shall… deviate from our routine for a while. Your magic I can tolerate, and even Harea’s and Velanna’s to a certain extent. These new Wardens, however? I would rather keep my distance, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine,” Anders reassured the naga. “I’m a big mage, love. I can handle myself.”

Fenris huffed a little chuckle. “So you say, Anders. So you say.”

Despite Rolan’s unnerving behavior earlier, morning sparring actually put Anders in better spirits, having seen the skills of the few mages who had survived. None were healers, unfortunately, though one young man did have an expansive knowledge base in the school of Creation. It felt good to be around more mages again too, and (speaking of spirits) he told this to Justice after they had met up on their way to the mess hall for breakfast. 

“But there are still mages in the Circles, are there not?” Justice pressed, and suddenly Anders’ high from morning training began to subside. He’d forgotten about the spirit’s fixation with the Circles. “Yes,” he admitted, reluctantly, “but my duties lie with the ones that are here, Justice. What’s your point?”

Justice paused, considering the question before replying.

“You mentioned previously that you avoided your oppression. I have been thinking about this a great deal.” Anders managed, somehow, to refrain from sighing in response to this. “Oh have you? And what are your thoughts, Justice?”

“You said that striking back at your former oppressors sounded difficult, and that death is as much a weakness as apathy.” Anders snorted. “I’d say it’s more a weakness than apathy. At least if you’re apathetic you’re still alive.” Justice continued with his musings as though Anders had not spoken. “I mentioned that you still had a duty to free your fellows, regardless. Your reply was, if I recall correctly, “Welcome to the world, spirit.” I asked Sigrun what you meant by this, and she told me that you were implying that life is not fair.”

“Well, it isn’t.”

“It should be.”

Anders shook his head. “You only think that because you’re the embodiment of an ideal, Justice. Yeah, it would be nice if only bad things happened to bad people and good things happened to good people, but…” He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, being careful not to dislodge his ponytail.

“I know it’s confusing, but I’ve got a new book about the Avvar and spirits that I’m reading and maybe there’s something in it that can help me send you home, alright? Then you can go back to saving helpless Fade villages and all that.” 

“And what if I do not wish to? This world is stubborn and imperfect, but there is beauty and wonder in it as well.”

“Justice, you and I both know that’s a lie. You miss the Fade, it’s okay. I miss my home too, but I can never go back there. You… you might be able to go back to yours, and I want to help you do that.” Justice hummed in the affirmative. “And for that, I thank you. I still wish to understand why you do not extend this desire to help to your fellows, however.”

“Well,” Anders said as he swung open the door to the mess hall, “why don’t you do some more thinking then and get back to me?” He turned around to enter the mess hall and stopped briefly to glance around for Fenris. The naga didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight however, and being as tall as he was, Anders figured that he should be able to spot that head of white hair anywhere in a room. He sighed.

“Thanks for the conversation, Justice,” he told the spirit wearily, “but I gotta go eat. Talk to you later.” Anders trudged off to the food table and began piling things onto a plate. One plate that he guessed had been comprised of spiced chicken drumsticks had only a single stick on it, and he reached over to pick it up.

However, someone else got to it before he did. Anders glanced up, and there was Rolan, his eyes alight with that strange wild hunger from earlier.

“Oh, did you want this?” Rolan teased, dangling the chicken in front of Anders. “Well too bad! This one’s mine now–gotta sate that new Warden hunger, right?” He laughed, and was about to take the chicken away, however there were a few loud complaints down the table that travelled closer towards them until, finally, an orange blur snatched the chicken from Rolan’s hand.

Rolan blinked at the air owlishly before whirling around to find the chicken thief. 

“What? Hey–where’d the chicken go?”

Anders glanced around as well, having an inkling of what might’ve stolen the chicken, but no suspect was to be found. Then a soft mewl came from below him, and a little furry head peeked out from beneath the tablecloth, holding the stick of chicken in his mouth. Anders grinned and took the chicken, giving Ser Pounce a grateful pat as he allowed the cat to leap up on his shoulder. “You’re such a good kitty, aren’t you?” he cooed, and that got Rolan’s attention.

Rolan sneered. “That stupid cat! One of these days, I’m gonna find a way to get rid of it, mage!”

Anders’ blood iced over again as it had this morning.

His discomfort must’ve shown on his face because Rolan leaned over the table of food to try and get closer, but Anders took a few steps back as Ser Pounce hissed at the former Templar recruit, his fur fluffed up and his claws dug into Anders’ uniform for support.

“I am gonna find a way, just you wait,” Rolan threatened again, but by now their little exchange had been noticed, and one of the other new Warden recruits nudged Rolan gently with their shoulder. “Hey bud, quit it. It’s just a piece of chicken. Move on.” 

Rolan turned around to growl at the other Warden, who edged away before Rolan stalked off to find a place to sit. He glanced at Anders, who shrugged. “I dunno. Doesn't seem like the Joining has settled well with him.”

The other Warden scoffed, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. I’ve heard things from some of the guys who bunk with him. He’s…” They stared after Rolan, and seemed unable to find the words to describe him, so Anders offered a few. “Unhinged? Dangerous? Obsessed?” The other Warden shrugged. “Yeah. I think I remember him from before, back in Amaranthine. He wasn’t so bad then. Sure, he was really on the case about mages, no offense, but he was never this… weird. I hope it gets out of his system soon. You guys are, like, supposed to be super important in the Deep Roads, right?”

Anders shrugged. “I suppose so. Some Darkspawn can use magic too, so… yeah, I guess we are.”

Just then, Fenris came sliding up next to Anders, holding a bowl of some meaty soup in his hands. “Are you alright?” he asked. “I saw Rolan stalking off.” Anders nodded. “Yeah, he was trying to taunt me by taking the last chicken drumstick, but Pounce stole it from him.” He snickered, then took a closer look at the chicken and scowled.

“Aw, Pounce! Your fur is all over this!”

Fenris laughed. “At least they’ll taste good? They never do after he’s laid on all of our towels.”

Anders merely rolled his eyes. “Let’s just go eat. I want to forget all about that guy for awhile.” Fenris grinned. “I could help with that.”

“As much as I’d like that, I’m not _that_ much of an exhibitionist.”

Then they left to go find a seat, the poor new Warden just staring after them curiously.

* * *

Anders _would_ forget about Rolan for a little while, but he always remembered him at every mealtime where he was reminded of Rolan’s instability. And while there, the other Warden rarely missed a chance to taunt him, to rile him up, to belittle him, or any number of things.

Some of the other Wardens asked why he didn’t defend himself. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that there was no point for a mage to defend themselves against a Templar, even one who had never taken their vows. (Although Fenris did once, and some of the younger ones looked at each other, horrified.)

Anders was reminded of Justice’s words. _But this is not right. You have an obligation._

He discussed this with Fenris during one of their study sessions in the library, and began by asking for the naga’s opinion.

“Do you think I should take more of an interest? Should I tell people about the things I suffered?”

Fenris looked up from the anatomy book they were holding, frowning. “Have the spirit’s words been messing with your head again?” Anders sighed. “Maybe. I dunno. It’s more about those looks the younger Wardens had on their faces when you told them that thing about Templars. They looked like they’d had _no clue_. What could most people do, if they knew?”

“Anders, they’re Wardens now. To them, you’re just another Warden, and it’s probably more astonishing that there’d be infighting among them.”

“We’re just like any other military group,” Anders groused. “They should’ve known that.”

“Anders,” Fenris sighed, “Can we focus on the task at hand?”

Guilt washed through Anders and he nodded, tears pricking at the edges of his eyes. “Yes, I’m sorry.” He tried to pick up reading where they left off, but Fenris stopped him by putting a hand to his chest.

“I–Anders. Stop. I did not mean to brush you away. It’s just, well. You know my feelings about mages running free.”

“And what about me?” Anders asked, unable to keep the hurt and anger from his voice. “What am I to you, then? Am I not fit for freedom?” Now it was Fenris’ turn to duck his head and Anders’ to feel terrible for his words. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he swore. “I never think when I speak. I don’t mean to accuse you of–” 

“Anders, it’s alright,” Fenris murmured, shutting up Anders with a kiss. “It appears that we both have concerns regarding mages, however they are merely at opposite ends of the spectrum. I cannot say how to resolve this, but perhaps now is not the time. Perhaps in the future, there will be an opportunity to address it.” He reached up and tucked a few stray hairs behind one of Anders’ ears. “I only wish your happiness,” Fenris confessed. “I do not wish to fight. Shall we return to reading for now and discuss your questions later?”

His arms reflexively tightened around the naga as they returned to their reading, having agreed to talk more later on the subject. He supposed that he couldn’t blame Fenris for his fears, but Fenris was right about Justice’s words having altered his thoughts somewhat. He did not know what to feel about this, except perhaps afraid and confused.

Despite this, he savored every moment with Fenris, and they gave him strength to whether the moments when he encountered Rolan while alone.

Once, Rolan tripped him up while he was delivering a bale of elfroot to the clinic and had to clean it up while listening to the warrior taunt him. He’d also tried to tell some of the younger Wardens who asked why he wasn’t helping that he was “keeping an eye on the dangerous mage” but Anders shut him right up by telling them he’d tripped (knowing they might not believe him if he said Rolan had done the tripping) and that the warrior had refused to help when asked.

This angered Rolan further, though the young Wardens took Anders’ side in the matter and helped him pick things up. He was less lucky another time when he’d just gotten back from patrol and was carrying his staff back to his quarters, when Rolan pinned him against the wall and actually _silenced_ him. Anders had taken a good whiff of the man’s breath and winced.

How had the man gotten ahold of lyrium? He definitely reeked of it. And by the smell of it, he was taking too much, too frequently.

Despite the sick feeling in his gut and the dizziness that came from being silenced, Anders had taken hold of his staff and soundly beat Rolan away with it. He did his best to be aware of his surroundings from then on.

Rolan even tried to get Stroud to make Anders get rid of Ser Pounce-a-lot after one too many stolen food incidents, but Fenris put a proverbial foot down when the request was made after finding Anders in tears, clutching the cat to his chest in their quarters. Afterwards, Stroud conceded ownership rights to Anders and allowed him to keep Ser Pounce as long as he stayed out of the kitchens and the mess hall and remained out from underfoot of the Wardens during training exercises.

Whenever Anders could, he mentioned all of these things to Stroud, or Kyle and Susanna.

Stroud rarely listened to Anders’ complaints, however one afternoon as he, Kyle, and Stroud were walking towards the clinic, they heard a shout and a shriek sound from on the other side of the door. Stroud burst in with Anders and Kyle not far behind, and they were greeted to a scene of Rolan attacking Harea with his bare hands, in full plate armor. Blood trickled quickly from one side, likely a gash from some kind of animal.

Harea didn’t seem to be afraid of Rolan however. In fact, she looked furious. With a snarl, she sidestepped the warrior and used his own momentum against him to push him forcefully against the wall so she could grasp his arms and pin him to the floor with surprising strength and speed.

“Damn you,” she swore, he accent heavy and thick, “Stay still!”

It was then that she noticed the three of them standing there and she swore again, this time at them. “Are you sod-eating rodents going to just stand there? Anders, heal the gash in his side while I hold him still–Kyle, go to the vials and find one labeled coconut water!” She swore again, and as Anders was healing the struggling warrior, she cast a sleep spell to make him go still.

She glared up at Stroud, who actually took a step back when she looked up at him.

“I need help getting him out of his armor and strapping him to one of the reinforced tables.” It was given without question, and as he and Anders were strapping Rolan to a table, Kyle handed her the coconut water which she poured down the unconscious man’s throat without pause.

“Why that?” Anders asked, and Harea grumbled.

“This idiot’s been taking lyrium somehow, and he’s pro’ly been takin’ too much, too quickly, and no’ preparing it properly when he does. Idiot.” She glared again at Stroud, and pointed to Anders as she tore into him. “ _He’s_ been telling you tha’ fer about a week, an’ ye didn’t listen! But if this one continues to take lyrium, ‘e’s gonna get ‘imself killed! Or someone else killed! Ye need ta find whoever ‘e’s gettin’ it from, and put a stop to it!”

She huffed and puffed for a bit before scowling at the the unconscious Rolan.

“An’ I’d do it soon, before this one tries to grab a breast again and tell me ‘e wants to have his way with me. Elsewise I might just kill ‘im myself.”

Kyle looked about equal parts furious and lovestruck, while Stroud was all shock.

Eventually, he’d managed to clear his throat and offer Harea an apology, though he only received another scowl in return.

When she replied back, her accent had faded some, though there was still a heavy lilt to the occasional word or two. “I don’t _need_ an apology, Stroud,” she spat. “The Starkhaven Knight Commander hung one of my abusers and flogged the other two before transferring them elsewhere by way of an _apology_. I just want this one straightened out before he tries to do this to another mage, or any other Warden. An’ I’m gonna hold you to it, since I’ve always thought you were a decent leader from the day I signed up. Don’t prove me wrong, Commander. Do yerself a favor and practice what you preach.”

Stroud’s shock melted into a steely resolve, and he excused himself shortly after that.

Once he was gone, Anders watched Kyle hover next to Harea and begin chattering excitedly.

“How did you know to do that? That was amazing! I’ve never seen anyone just throw someone down in full armor like that! And he’s like twice your size!”

Harea, despite her earlier anger, seemed to calm even further with Kyle fussing over her. Anders swore there was a flush to her cheeks as well. She sighed, waving Kyle’s words away as though his praise was not important. “I learned it so that no one could ever take advantage of me like the templars in my youth did. I didn’t like feeling helpless then, so after the Circle burned, I went wherever I wished until the Wardens. I learned to fight from other mercenaries, and the occasional farmer. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I’m not helpless now.”

Kyle’s chatter had ceased, and she noticed his concerned expression.

“Don’t you worry about us, we’ll be fine. Don’t you have recruits to train?”

“Oh, right!” Kyle gave a started, but paused at the door. “Are you–” “Yes, Kyle. We’re fine. I wouldn’t mind it if you sent that one Creation mage our way though. He’s got clinic duty tomorrow morning, and I want to make sure he’s not gonna burn the place down.”

Kyle nodded and shouted, “Right, of course!” as he turned around and left. Anders leaned over and gave the elf a sly grin. “I think he likes you.”

Harea grunted. “Really? I hadn’t noticed, what with all the hovering an’ all.”

“Also, the room is made of stone. That mage isn’t going to burn anything down.”

“Shut up.”

Anders snickered and shook his head, but said nothing further. He did enjoy watching Harea glare at Rolan when he woke up and begged her to let him use a chamberpot, followed by his swift retreat behind a privacy curtain. Yet as always, his amusement was to be short-lived when Rolan resumed his baiting later at dinner, which Anders resolutely ignored. 

Things went on like this for about nearly three months, and it was around that time that the former Templar recruit had ceased all negativity towards Anders, which did not go unnoticed by anyone. Stroud and some of the Warden recruits thought that this might mean the warrior had finally straightened himself out, but Anders and everyone else merely wondered if the man was merely… up to something.

And then their names showed up on the same roster for an extended patrol of the cave systems close to the keep, and Anders looked over to see a flicker of hunger in Rolan’s steel blue eyes. 

Up to something indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To me, Stroud does not really have much of a personality in either DA2 or Inquisition. So I fleshed it out a bit in this fic. He's not a terrible person, he just has a little too much faith in a system that doesn't really do what he thinks it does.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which there is some smut with a side of mutual kinky biting, Anders gets into a bit of trouble, but gets out of it with the help of his naga knight in lyrium armor.

To Anders’ relief, Kyle had apparently been assigned to go on this extended trip, as had Justice.

“I’ll watch him like a hawk,” Kyle swore to him in a low voice as he’d clapped a hand around one of the mage’s shoulders. “If he tries anything, he is so done, I promise ye.” Anders smiled and chuckled a little at the warrior’s enthusiastic oath. He was certain it was made honestly, though it might also be for Harea’s benefit, as she had been within earshot of their exchange.

“You’re not just saying that?” he asked, and Kyle nodded vehemently.

“Absolutely not. I meant every word. He steps even one toe outta line, he’s done here.”

Anders frowned. “What would happen to him then?” Kyle shrugged. “Wiesshaupt. It’s where all the “problem children” get sent. Apparently it’s like a second joining, being sent there. If that doesn’t straighten Rolan out, I dunno what will. But hopefully it won’t come to that.”

Anders hoped so too, though part of him still wished it would.

They had until morning of the next day to prepare, so he spent most of his day packing in order to spend the rest of his evening with Fenris, who was most certainly going to want to have sex before he left. Not that Anders had any problem with it. In fact, they’d finally made it to the Naga section of the anatomy book they’d been reading, and he wanted to try something that they’d discovered within its contents.

They were lying in bed that evening, both of them completely naked when Anders brought up his idea. “You want to bite me?” Fenris asked, sounding amused. “I’m afraid it won’t do anything, since you don’t produce toxins like I do.”

Anders shook his head. “I know. But it’s supposed to be, like, a sign of affection. The book said neck bites are potentially very pleasurable between a Naga and their mate. I want to see if that’s true.” He pressed his face into the crook of Fenris’ neck and ever so gingerly drew his teeth across the skin. Everywhere that Fenris was pressed against him, he could feel him shudder.

“I feel… aroused by that alone,” Fenris said slowly, gasping as Anders gently bit into the flesh, but not anywhere close to breaking the skin.

“Good,” Anders purred as he pulled away, then adding with a note of shyness, “but I was wondering if maybe you could bite me first? I want to feel you inside me as I drive you wild with little teasing bites all along your neck…”

Fenris groaned, and just before he leaned over he whispered, “Consider it done,” and then bit down, causing Anders to gasp and then moan loudly with pleasure as he licked at the wound to close it up again. “And could you turn over for me? I’d like to prepare you this time. I’m feeling very indulgent tonight. Do spread your legs for me and keep your ass in the air however, and wind your arms around your back.”

Anders laughed as he turned over and Fenris fetched the vial of oil. “Oh, how generous of you–oh!” he exclaimed as he felt a cool finger trail the cleft of his ass. “That’s cold!”

Fenris’ answering chuckle was so deep and arousing it should’ve been a sin to hear it. 

“I said I was feeling indulgent, not forgiving.”

Anders huffed and pretended to be affronted even while Fenris’ first finger was pressing through the puckered ring of his asshole. “Mmm, a little warning still would’ve been ni–ohhhh…”

“Hush now and just enjoy it,” Fenris murmured as a second and third finger joined the first. Anders felt the fingers scissor around and then curl, brushing against his prostate. He whined, unable to grind against the bedsheets or pump his erection with a hand in this position. He suddenly understood why Fenris had chosen it.

“Fennn,” he panted, and Fenris soothed him by massaging Anders’ ass with his other hand, his tail keeping Anders’ legs in place yet feeling so very solid and comforting.

“Patience, Anders,” Fenris continued in the same voice, putting in a fourth finger while still leaving Anders’ cock untouched. Anders’ breathing hitched when Fenris teased his prostate again, but not enough to push him over the edge. He felt his cock pulsing, hanging heavy and leaking between his legs. He tried to formulate a reply, however the toxins had kicked in and were magnifying his pleasure now but even that was still not enough.

He whined again and bit into a pillow, thrashing his head in his frustration.

When the fingers were removed, Anders could almost breathe a sigh of relief… until a tongue replaced them, causing his back to bow a little as he threw his head back to cry out, though he was unsure whether he was moaning or truly crying. He felt concern filter through the bond which he responded to with ecstatic enthusiasm. The emotive equivalent of a chuckle filled him, and then a hand finally, finally reached between to grasp his cock, that first touch nearly undoing him. He lasted only mere moments before he was coming, but Fenris kept most of the cum from spilling onto the sheets as he turned Anders over.

“Apologies for the teasing,” Fenris said as Anders met his gaze, still panting harshly from his orgasm. “You just wanted to get me nice and relaxed,” Anders replied, to which Fenris replied, “Well, yes.” Ah. Right then.

Fenris wasted little time in winding his tail around Anders’ legs again and pressing both parts of his forked length through Anders’ entrance. Anders groaned as Fenris pressed against him, trapping Anders’ cock between them. Fenris thankfully stilled a moment to allow him time to gather his thoughts, and once he was able to think clearly enough, he wasted no time in nipping at Fenris’ neck, his clavicle, and anywhere else in that vicinity he could reach.

He fought through the pleasure that spiked wildly across their connection, causing the lengths inside him to lock in place and twitch like mad as Fenris desperately tried to reach orgasm. Anders’ cock ached between them, dribbling pre-come profusely.

Eventually, the tension grew too much and he just went for it, biting into Fenris’ neck in the exact place where his own bite was placed, putting as much pressure into his as he could.

The taste of blood filtered into his saliva, and when he pulled away, swallowed, and licked the bite in the same way Fenris had done, their connection filled with a pleasure so sublime it was near blinding in its intensity. When they came back to themselves, Anders could actually feel the sloshing of Fenris’ cum and he most definitely felt the copious amount of stickiness from his own string of orgasms. Neither of them remembered much of the experience, but Maker their bodies did. Even after Fenris pulled out and cleaned them off, both of them lay side by side, their entire beings practically vibrating with sensations. 

“Wow,” Anders breathed. “That… was amazing. Like, almost as good as that first time you fucked me while I fucked you. Maybe better.”

“Definitely better,” Fenris sighed contentedly, winding around Anders before sleep claimed them.

* * *

Anders felt strange all of the following morning, like his thoughts were forming before he could think them, and all around him the world felt brighter, more vibrant. Sounds were sharper and smells more diverse and poignant.

However he merely chalked it up to his fears about going on this patrol with Rolan of all people and decided not to dwell on it until he got back.

There were six of them because of the extended nature of the trip, and it was prudent to give the new recruits as much field experience as possible before taking them into the Deep Roads. Cave systems like the one they were going to scout out were often favorite places for darkspawn to loiter, and killing off a few of them never hurt. So their party comprised of Anders, Kyle, Justice and Rolan, along with two rouge recruits that Anders didn’t know the names of.

He did know that they weren’t fans of him, though. Especially after Ser Pounce-a-lot had performed one of his food thief escapes across the food table, getting fur all over everyone’s plates. He didn’t think they hated him with as much passion as Rolan, but if he was looking to ambush Anders somehow, he was certain the other Wardens wouldn’t mind helping him out.

Anders swore under his breath, his skin itching like mad. He wasn’t sure how he knew this, but there was rain coming. A lot of rain.

He told this to Kyle as evening was beginning to fall and they were looking for a place to set up camp. Kyle frowned, looking up at the sky. “Are you sure?” He asked, tilting his head at the sparse clouds above. “There’s like, nothing here.” The wind was beginning to pick up though, and Anders pointed out the change in air.

“I think we’ll be fine until morning,” Kyle insisted, waving him off. “Just, you know, be prepared to move quickly in case a torrent does start up.”

“Would it not be prudent to seek shelter _before_ the storm comes?” Justice asked Anders quietly as they were setting up camp. “What? You feel it too?” Anders gasped, suddenly curious. The spirit nodded. “The bones of this body ache with the change in pressure and my skin feels heavy from the water in the air. There is quite the storm coming. Can they not sense it?”

Anders shook his head. “Apparently not. I would say that maybe it’s a magic thing, but you…”

“In the Fade, I am nothing but magic with the consciousness to create a form. Though I currently reside in an unchanging form such as this, that is still partly my existence.”

It made sense, in a way, once Anders thought about it.

“Well, I hope that the rain doesn’t bother you too much. I don’t know how much of a torrent Kristoff’s body can handle in the state that it’s in.” Justice grumbled affirmatively. “I concur. However, it is only rain, and not, say, darkspawn blood. It should merely be an annoyance and not corrode this body further.” Justice glanced in Anders’ direction.

“You mentioned a few months ago in one of our talks that you were reading a book about the Avvar people and how their mages interacted with spirits.” Anders sighed. He didn’t really want to get into this now, in front of everyone…

“Yeah, what of it?”

“I wish to know what you discovered. Is it something that could return me to the Fade, as you thought it might?” Anders shrugged. “I mean, it’s possible. The thing is, I’d have to become an abomination to do it.”

“You would have to summon a demon?” Justice sighed, sounding strangely exasperated.

“No,” Anders replied, shaking his head. “I would have to take _you_ into _my_ body and then… perform some ritual. Genitivi was not clear on what those rituals entailed exactly, and the few he mentioned required blood sacrifices or something to send you back. Sorry Justice, but I’m not thrilled about the prospect of becoming both an abomination and a blood mage all in one go.”

Justice scowled. “But I am not a demon. Do you not have to take a demon into yourself to become an abomination?”

“The Chantry doesn’t care about technicalities,” Anders sighed, finally done setting up their tent. “All they care about is whether or not a mage took a creature of the Fade into themselves, and if they did, then it’s time for execution. Although, it’s more likely to be the brand. You don’t lose a source of free labor that way.” Anders knew he was being loud now, but he didn’t care. Anger and vitriol filled his voice and caused Justice to sigh deeply.

“I have upset you. I apologize.”

Anders shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Justice. I just… I don’t know. Maybe you’re right and I should take more of an interest in Circle mages or something.”

He expected Justice to say something in reply, but the spirit became strangely contemplative and moved to sit at a place by the fire instead. Anders shrugged and shook his head and dug in his pack for a familiar book, _Fang of the Dragonlord_.

Kyle came by with a bowl of stew for him a little while later and noticed what he was reading and snorted. “Hey, I’ve read that. It’s like, pretty good for what it is.” Anders chuckled. “Yeah. This one was a copy that belonged to… to a friend.” He sighed, and took the bowl that Kyle offered as he sat next to Anders. “Sounds like they were more than a friend.”

Anders shrugged. “Yeah, but then he was transferred to Kirkwall and I never saw him again. He… gave me this before he left.” Anders thumbed through the dog eared pages with one hand as he paused his eating. “I like to think he’d be glad that I somehow made it free from the Circle and found someone who loves me all in one go.” Kyle tilted his head curiously. “Fenris?”

“Yeah. He sort of reminds me of the dragon in the book a bit, now that I think about it.”

Kyle snorted. “Yeah, he does. Not that that’s a bad thing. Don’t he and the knight end up in the countryside together with like a bunch of kids?” Anders chuckled. “They do, but somehow I doubt kids will ever be in our future. Warden, remember?”

“Ah, right,” Kyle conceded. “Still, it’s nice to dream.”

“I think I’m good,” Anders said, shrugging. “I’m a Warden mage, basically as free as a mage can get, and some mornings I think even that was too much to ask.” 

“Nonsense,” Kyle told him, waving a spoon at him. “Now shut up and eat, stew’s actually good tonight.” Anders chuckled and dug in, humming in agreement as the meat and vegetables filled his mouth. It was good. He hoped that the stew was a good sign and that the storm to come wouldn’t be as difficult to weather as he feared.

* * *

He awoke to darkness, blindfolded, his hands bound, his mouth gagged.

Fear spiked through him as he thrashed. He desperately wanted to call for Fenris, but Fenris was not here. Where was… here?

He tried to focus on the senses he still had available to him. Rain was dripping steadily on his uniform, the air was thick with moisture and eerily quiet. There were smells of grass, rocks, trees, and animal markings. Voices filtered in through the darkness, ones he recognized.

“Looks like he’s awake. What do you want to do with him?” That was one of the recruited rouges. The other one tittered a bit, clearly not as into this as into this as the first one. “I–I thought we were just gonna mess around with him a little. I never agreed to kill him or–”

“Then leave if you’re so uncomfortable,” someone snapped. That was Rolan.

“Hey, I think maybe you should rethink this,” the first recruit argued. “I’m not getting kicked out because I killed one of our healers either. I’m beginning to see why you never actually took your vows. You’re one crazy bastard.” 

“Fuck you! I might just kill him anyway, and make you watch.”

_Run. Get up and run, Anders._

What? Anders blinked into the darkness of the blindfold. He couldn’t run blind, that was impossible! He shifted and somehow noted that whatever was binding his hands was made from some sort of cloth. He could burn it, maybe, and then bolt for it once his hands were free. He reached for his magic, hoping that Rolan hadn’t silenced him again. To his relief, it came to him immediately, but he waited for the others to speak again before trying in case one of them saw.

“Fine, fine, that was maybe a little over the line. But seriously, I’m not killing him, and if you think either of us are gonna help you with that, fuck off.”

_Behind you. Be careful._

Yeah, no shit he had to be careful. He couldn’t call too much magic and summon a flame, but not enough and they might see and knock him out again.

He had to do it soon, though. Rolan was getting antsy.

“Pansy-asses, both of you. Fine. Might as well get him up anyway and take him into the caves. I heard he doesn’t like the dark.” Anders’ heartbeat sped up and it pounded against his chest as he heard the shuffle of boots headed his way. Rolan was coming for him, and his strides were long and purposeful. Even without seeing the man’s eyes, he knew that he would find the hunter’s glare glowing within their depths.

_Now, do it now, Anders!_

Anders burned his bonds and quickly shot off into the dark. Behind him he could hear swearing, and footsteps running quickly after him. He tore off the blindfold and removed the gag, chucking it behind him to hear someone cry out in pain which was followed by another loud curse.

“Damn both of you! Why didn’t you bind his legs you idiots?”

Anders couldn’t hear the rest of what Rolan was saying because then the skies opened up and a downpour began. Shit. He kept running, but he could barely see a foot in front of him and his clothes were weighing him down, slowing his running speed. Already being night, he had no idea where he was or where he was going, but the rain definitely didn’t help. Eventually he scrambled his way through the storm and into a clearing, but that was when he was tackled from behind and his face was pressed into the mud, choking him for a minute.

“I’ve got you now, mage,” Rolan hissed in his ear. Anders shuddered.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Anders huffed through chattering teeth. He whined, and a voice in his head called out to him, accompanied by a bolstering wave of fury that flooded his very being.

 _Jab back with your elbows_ , the voice commanded, _then turn around and get him where it hurts!_

Anders wasted no time doing this, and Rolan recoiled in pain as Anders struggled to wriggle out from underneath him. He managed it, but now he was covered in mud and soaked through with rain. Thank the Maker for small mercies that his hair was still kept back by his hair tie. He made it out of the clearing and back into the trees and was once more in the dark.

_Anders, where are you?_

“Where am I?” Anders huffed, muttering to himself. “Where the fuck am I? That’s what I’d like to know!” He swore, tripping on a tree root he hadn’t been able to see.

_Anders please, concentrate._

The voice sounded like it was begging, and Anders almost tripped over his own feet when he realized that he wasn’t talking to himself.

“Fenris?”

 _Yes, yes!_ The voice cried out, panic and relief washing through his connection to the naga.

_Yes, it’s me. Please Anders, concentrate! Can you get to a place where you can stop running?_

“Unlikely,” Anders muttered, panting harshly, “but I’ll try.” A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and Anders stopped for the briefest of moments to look around. Mostly there was only forest, grasses, and rocks as far as the eye could see, but to his left, the cave system mountains loomed over the area.

The caves supposedly interlocked with one another.

 _Perhaps we can find each other in them_ , Fenris said, and somehow Anders felt Fenris’ presence fade from his mind. He wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but there was no time. He could hear Rolan and the two other Wardens catching up to him, so he started off for the cliffs and hoped there was a cave entrance nearby.

He desperately wished he knew how far he was away from his mate… and in which direction.

Suddenly their connection flared to life and Anders’ feet shifted course without his realizing it, but somehow he felt he was heading in the right direction.

“I’m coming, my love,” he panted, and there was an answering swelling in his heart that pushed him to go faster in spite of the mud and rain weighing him down. He ran faster and faster, but Rolan was never very far behind. He could hear the warrior shouting, “Stop mage, and I might kill you quickly!” or, “This is far better than I could’ve imagined–what a chase! You really know how to run, mage!”

It was one taunt in particular, “And once I’m done with you, I’m gonna kill your mate too!” that turned his blood to ice.

 _Not if I don’t kill him first_ , Fenris’ voice filled his head, and their connection overflowed with a kind of fury Anders wasn’t certain he had ever experienced himself. Bloodlust. Anders wanted to shy away from the feeling, but some part of him was glad for it, knowing that his mate was coming to protect him. That feeling filled him as he finally found a cave and entered it, quickly casting a small ball of magelight to light his path as he ran.

He ran faster without the rain bearing down on him, but the mud still weighed on him, and Rolan had apparently followed him into the cave. Anders tried to focus on where Fenris was, but his terror was beginning to outpace his hope as he heard the familiar slice of a drawn sword cutting the air as it was unsheathed.

Then he took a wrong turn and hit a wall without realizing it, and suddenly he was in a dead end, crumpled against a corner of the cave.

Rolan came around the side, also covered in mud and dripping his own torrent of raindrops to the floor of the cave, a crazed grin stretching his lips wide as his eyes glowed with a predatorial light. He chuckled harshly, gleefully.

“There you are, mage. Look at you, trapped like the vermin you are… I’m going to enjoy exterminating you.”

“Not on my watch, Rolan,” said another voice, and Anders heart leapt at the sound of it.

Rolan whirled around and suddenly was knocked over by a single swipe of a powerful iridescent tail. A hiss and a growl filled the cave, and Anders watched as Rolan’s expression flitted from shock and surprise to pure, unfiltered fear. Claws raked at his armor, shredding the metal, leather, and fabric and digging right through to flesh and bone. The long tail wound about the warrior and squeezed, causing Rolan to arch backward and cry out.

All that filled Anders’ mind was Fenris’ rage, and he almost joined in to encourage him as he stood to watch the spectacle.

Distant voices sounded from somewhere further back, or forward in the cave system. That meant people were coming, and Fenris was now splattered with blood. It didn’t look good. However, Rolan had managed to grasp his sword and Anders watched in horror as the blade hit the naga’s soft underside, nicking his left side through his Warden tunic, and part of an arm. Fenris hissed and howled, uncoiling and leaping forward to wind around Anders protectively.

_He will not have you._

Fenris’ voice echoed through their connection and for a brief moment, their eyes met. Anders could almost ignore the sounds of Rolan groaning as he struggled to stand and for a heartbeat they were back in the cave where he’d first met Fenris.

 _And nor will he you_ , Anders answered.

Anders turned to look Rolan in the eye, finding the predatory gleam still burning bright with their hungry depths. Yet for once, it did not make him quake in fear. Instead, he raised a hand, called upon the energy of the Fade, and released it before Rolan could even open his mouth in protest.

A blast of energy pushed the warrior backwards into the wall of the cavern behind him, and though it did not kill him, Rolan remained where the spell had tossed him.

That was when Anders let out the breath he’d been holding and burst into uncontrollable tears, turning into Fenris’ waiting arms. “Hush,” Fenris soothed, holding him tight despite his drenched and dirty state. “You’re safe now. You’re unhurt.”

Hurt. Fenris had been hurt, hadn’t he?

“Wh–Where did he cut you?” Anders managed to ask through his sobs, but Fenris shook his head. “It’s not important. I’ll heal quickly. You’re more important, Anders... so much more.”

Anders didn’t agree, but he was too worn out to argue, especially once Kyle arrived on the scene with Justice just as the two other recruits also stumbled into the cavern where Rolan had been tossed.

“Damn him,” Kyle cursed upon seeing the unconscious Rolan. He glanced about and saw the other two Wardens and began swearing up a storm. Most of it wasn’t in Common and whatever sounded like it might’ve been was obscured by the heaviness that his already heavy Starkhaven brogue had acquired, so Anders couldn’t understand any of it.

“And tie him up with this,” Kyle snarled, tossing the two rouges a heavy coil of actual rope.

“Tell them not to forget the legs this time,” Fenris added, and to Kyle’s credit, he didn’t miss a beat. He jerked his head in their direction and asked, “Well? Did you hear that?”

Anders heard the two Wardens simpering as they meekly answered, “Yes, sir!”

Kyle seemed satisfied then and at last turned and ducked into the alcove where Fenris had lowered Anders back into a sitting position and held him as he shivered. He frowned, taking in Anders’ soaked, mud-covered clothes. His own weren’t much better, though they looked merely damp instead of soaking.

“Shit, you must be freezing,” Kyle swore again, and turned around. “Justice, you’ve got his bags, right?” The spirit nodded, handing his satchel over. “Here’s your stuff,” Kyle sighed, crouching and setting it down next to the pair of them. “I think most of your stuff is fine. I… couldn’t find your book, though.” Anders breath caught, and Kyle’s face crumpled. “I… I’m sorry, I should’ve listened to you about the rain. At least… at least you’re alright.”

Anders could only nod meekly as Kyle ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I was asleep,” he began again in a quieter voice. “I woke to silence. I guess it felt weird, always being around people having darkspawn dreams or talking because they can’t sleep or they’re on watch. I was alone, but not for long. Justice must’ve gone to secure the perimeter and that’s when they took you. He came back with Fenris not long after I awoke, and then the rain started.”

“We packed up most things before I…” Fenris started to say, before his breath caught in his throat. “Before I heard your thoughts stir. I had sensed you were in danger and must have left at the right time. I cannot explain it.”

There was silence for a few heartbeats before Kyle glanced back towards the cavern and sighed as he turned back to Anders and Fenris.

“I’m gonna go make sure those two are actually securing Rolan. He’s really done now, attacking another Warden like that. Shit. Um. You two can just stay here until morning, though I’d recommend getting out of those wet clothes.” He pulled two bedrolls from a pack he’d been lugging around and set them at their feet.

“Here’s your bedroll, and that madman’s back there,” Kyle grumbled. “Not like he needs it. Can sleep with his head on a rock for all I care. You just get changed, get some rest, and we’ll deal with the rest later.”

Magelight still flickered near Anders’ head, and suddenly Kyle was blinking at it, stupefied.

“Hey, I know you’re not good with the dark. Will you be okay?”

Anders clung tighter to Fenris. “Yeah, I think so. I can heat rocks with a fire spell, too. Probably easier that way.” He chuckled, a bit shakily, and offered the man a tired smile. “Thanks, though. For caring.” Kyle chuffed and returned the smile with a nod. “I’ll wake you when the storm’s over. Or after dawn. Whichever’s more convenient.” 

Then he turned around and exited the little cave and left to supervise the other Wardens, with Justice trailing silently behind.

Anders’ magelight flickered once, twice, and stuttered out not long afterwards, but before he even had the presence of mind to gasp at the sudden darkness, Fenris lit his brands. Anders frowned in concern. “D–Don’t, please don’t–” he tried to protest, but Fenris held a finger to his lips. “I’m fine, Anders,” Fenris hushed, nuzzling the mage’s nose with his own. “

“Merely tell me what you need. You said you could heat rocks for heat and light?”

Anders nodded. “Pebbles would be good. Large ones, if you can find any.” He took a few deep breaths and summoned the magelight again. “I can hold the spell until you can find what we need. I’ll… get out of these wet things. Here, I’ll take your tunic too. You’re soaked through as well. Did you… how did you get here so quickly?”

Fenris frowned, dimming the brands. “I only knew that something was terribly wrong, and that I needed to see that you were safe. It wasn’t until the chatter in my head had gone silent that I realized your thoughts had been filling the disquiet in our bond and that they weren’t anymore.”

Anders began peeling off his wet uniform as Fenris gathered some of the nearby rocks and pebbles into piles. “When did you know I was in trouble?”

“Your panic has a taste to it. I can’t describe it, only that when it filled my mouth and churned my insides, that was when I knew. Then I heard Rolan’s name in your thoughts and that he was going to kill you. It was instinct that pushed me to tell you to run. Then I began to feel everything that you felt, only secondhand. Like an echo.”

“You could feel that I was tied up?”

Fenris nodded, pausing to study the amount of rocks he’d piled up. “Yes, and that the bindings were cloth, not rope. I felt your panic again when you were tackled to the ground, so I told you how to escape so you could keep running. After that, it somehow became easier to sense what direction you were in.”

“I noticed that too,” Anders said quietly as he quickly changed into a spare set of dry clothes. “Once I knew that it was your voice in my head, I just sort of… changed course. Like I was being pulled towards you. The caves got me all turned around though.”

“It worked out in the end,” Fenris assured him, then glanced down at his rock piles.

“Are these good enough?”

Anders nodded. “I don’t have a spare uniform though, and I’d rather not dry this one out and have it still covered in mud.”

“Won’t the mud just… flake off?” Fenris asked, eyebrow raised.

Anders grumbled. “I suppose so. Oh, and did anyone happen to pick up my staff?” Fenris jerked his head in the direction of the others. “I think Justice has it. Do you need it?” Anders debated with himself for a moment before shaking his head no. “I just… wanted to know where it was.” He sighed deeply, staring morosely at his pack and sniffling.

_Please don’t cry, Anders._

Anders gasped, a bit startled at hearing Fenris’ voice in his head but not seeing the naga’s lips move. Tears started falling again anyway as he warmed the rocks until they glowed, laying both of their sets of wet clothes on one pile while Fenris gingerly arranged the bedrolls and blankets into a familiar structure. He didn’t bother wiping them away as he stared.

“Fenris, are you... nesting?”

Fenris paused, then looked at the carefully arranged pallet of pillows and blankets. Even in the dim glow of the rocks Anders had lit for warmth, Anders could see the shock on Fenris’ face as he realized what he was doing. Immediately he began to pat down a section of his tail and grew very still. He inched closer, unable to keep still from the trepidation that hovered around their connection. His fingers brushed the hand that pressed against Fenris’ tail, and he startled a bit.

“Fenris?” Anders asked again, and Fenris swallowed uncertainly. “I hadn’t noticed that the eggs were… nearly ready.” Anders settled into the nest next to Fenris and leaned against the naga, shoulder to shoulder.

“Do I need to tell Kyle that we might be here for a while?”

Fenris shook his head. “No, I can make it back just fine. I think I have approximately three days, a week at most. I just… I usually notice it sooner.” Anders reached over again, but this time his fingers hovered over where Fenris’ hands were pressed gingerly against his soft underbelly. Anders glanced further up where Rolan’s blade had cut in, but as Fenris had assured him, the cut was mostly healed by now. Even the lyrium brands there were unbroken.

“Can I touch?” he asked, and Fenris chuckled softly. “They’re not viable, Anders.” Anders shrugged. “I still want a feel. Just a bit.” Fenris huffed softly through his nose and grasped Anders’ hand. “Alright. I suppose,” he conceded quietly, as though confiding a precious secret. 

Fenris pressed Anders’ hand against the tough skin, and gasped when he felt several little bumps against his touch.

“Fenris,” Anders breathed, a touch of laughter to his voice, “you are a _wonder_.”

The naga merely hummed and moved to lay down on the nest. Anders followed him, and the both of them fell asleep to the distant sounds of the rain, the warmth of the glowing rocks that served as their fire, and the gentle hum of the other's’ thoughts as they held one another close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might've butchered Avvar spirit rituals just a little bit for this, I do hope you can forgive me. I had to come up with something for the ending since I knew Anders wasn't going to be joining with Justice... yet. It wasn't the most elegant solution I realize, but it came in handy later.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Stroud is actually a decent person for once, I mess around a bit with elven mating rituals, and some _actual fucking oviposition_ occurs. Like, why did I spend all this time getting here? I don't know.
> 
> But damn, I've never had to _stop_ writing smut because the stuff I was writing was so... distracting. :P

Anders woke before Fenris the following morning, carefully extricating himself from the naga’s gentle grip. The alcove was dark now, but then dim light of early morning filtered in just a little from the cavern entrance around the bend.

He peeled his clothes off the still warm rocks and shook it to loosen what he could of the mud that had dried. It still didn’t look pretty, but once he’d slipped it back on, he found it suitable enough. That was when Fenris woke and he handed the naga his own shirt tunic, which had also dried overnight thanks to Anders’ handy fire spell.

Breakfast was rations, which Kyle himself fed to Rolan after they’d completed their search of the perimeter. No darkspawn nearby, no bandits, no blighted animals; eventually Kyle turned around and pronounced the area safe enough for them to head back, which they did.

Rolan was kept bound and gagged, except for his legs so he could ride the horse he’d been given for the trip. Kyle demonstrated great skill with the beasts by taking control of its reins along with his own, and he did this the entire way back to Vigil’s Keep. They happened upon a young courier who was headed towards the fortress, and Kyle stopped him to give a message to Commander Stroud, asking for their patrol to be greeted at the gates.

He gave the young man a gold sovereign and promised him a second if he ran quickly.

Anders had never seen someone run so fast in his life. Vaguely he wondered how fast he’d ever managed to run during his escapes from Kinloch Hold.

Stroud was waiting for them when they arrived mid-afternoon, and seemed surprised to see the state they were in. “Was there trouble?” He asked, to which Kyle responded, “Trouble? You could say that. It wasn’t bandits or darkspawn, however.” 

He stated the events that had occurred over the course of yesterday evening and well into the night, though he did have to prompt Anders to give a brief account of his experiences. Fenris still bore the scars from Rolan’s blade, and Anders’ uniform was still heavily stained from the mud. It wasn’t difficult to convince Stroud of Rolan’s guilt.

“I suppose I’ll have to make arrangements to have him sent to Weisshaupt for… more intense training,” Stroud sighed as Kyle helped Rolan off of his horse with no amount of gentleness. He watched as Kyle began to lead Rolan to the holding cells and frowned. “You are putting him in the cells? Surely–”

“Sir,” Kyle cut in curtly, “I have always believed you to be a good leader. Tell me, what wisdom is there in allowing a man who attacked a fellow soldier to walk free and unattended?”

Stroud sighed. “He would not have been unattended but…” Here he glanced at Anders, who scowled when their gazes met briefly. “I see your point.” Kyle nodded and led Rolan away as Stroud turned to Anders and gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. “My apologies for this incident. I shall do better to listen to your concerns in the future. Is there anything I can do to for you at present?”

Anders sighed and was about to refuse when he remembered Fenris’ revelation the night prior. 

“I need two weeks.” He glanced at Fenris. _Is that enough?_

A fine eyebrow lifted in his direction. _Whatever f–oh. You’re not considering…?_

 _I want this. Even though we still don’t know everything. I trust you._  

Fenris nodded. Two weeks was plenty, he agreed. Anders turned back to Stroud. “Two weeks of rest and study. I’m still willing to work in the infirmary, but Fenris’ laying cycle will be starting soon, and I don’t want any of the new recruits getting hurt.” He scowled at the two rogues who had helped Rolan tie him up and drag him off. “Except maybe them. Just a little bit.”

They had still argued for not killing him after all, so maybe that counted for something.

Stroud didn’t seem to care either way. “Consider it done,” he said. “I’ll keep you off the roster as long as you need. Maker knows Commander Rashia would have my hide if she came back to find you missing, or worse.”

Suddenly Anders could see what Harea had told him she’d seen when she’d joined up with the Wardens herself. Stroud wasn’t always a good leader, but he did seem to be a good man. Anders gave a short nod of thanks in return and said, “Pardon my Orlesian, but damn right she would. Still, thanks for granting my request… sir.”

Stroud’s mustache twitched in what Anders assumed was an almost smile.

He gave Anders another nod before walking off without saying another word, though Anders got the feeling that he appreciated Anders’ cordiality. He breathed a sigh of relief and took Fenris’ hand in his.

“It seems we have weathered the storm after all,” he said, to which Fenris chuckled.

“It was merely one among many,” Fenris replied. “And there will surely be more in the future. However I agree that this one appears to have passed, and we are still standing.” Fenris grinned then, and an image flashed in Anders’ mind across their connection. He flushed and then pretended to fan himself with one hand. 

“My, my, _Fenris_ … as arousing as that sounds, I find the more interesting things we can do involving that are… usually done lying down.”

Fenris snorted and let himself be led by Anders back into the keep. “This is true.” He paused, then asked in a slightly timid voice, “Do you truly intend to let me… lay the eggs in you? The thought doesn’t terrify you?” 

Anders shook his head. “We’re not two strangers in a cave anymore,” he told Fenris with a smile. “And there’s still time yet to try to read more about how mating works. You’ve also told me enough about the things that others have done for me to get a general sense of what to expect… though I’m almost afraid to wonder about what some of the others did to take the eggs inside without… a place to keep them. Surely they wouldn’t just… bond with, with…”

“With their slaves?” Fenris shrugged. “I doubt it, but pleasure slaves are sometimes kept around for sentimental reasons if they were particularly well liked, and even the older naga I saw in Tevinter still had this… allure to them. As for the other thing, well…”

Anders sighed. “Like I said, I don’t want to know. I think I’m just going to assume blood magic and curse all slavers and slave owners to the Void.”

“Ha!” Fenris barked, chortling softly behind his other hand. “The things you say, Anders.”

Anders felt Fenris gently squeeze his hand, and Anders squeezed back. They made their way to the infirmary where they popped in to see Harea to break the news about Rolan, and it was only after a good half hour or so that she let them retreat to the library for some much needed peace and quiet. They took their customary place on one of the plush settees with Fenris half in Anders’ lap, his tail wrapped securely about the mage’s legs, and they spent the afternoon working on reading what they could about naga anatomy until dinner.

After dinner, they retired to their rooms where Anders watched Fenris begin to arrange their pillows and blankets to his liking, and he made a note to tell the staff not to touch any of the bedding for a while. They fell asleep in much the same way they had the night before, wrapped tightly around each other, never wanting to let go.

* * *

Two days later, Anders woke just before dawn and he couldn’t seem to figure out what had disturbed him. Then he felt Fenris shift against him, and he was suddenly very aware of how warm the naga was. 

“Fenris?” he whispered, but there was no response.

He decided to try again, using their connection. _Fenris_ , he called, and shortly afterwards Fenris slowly stirred awake. The naga clung tighter to Anders, and for the first time, Anders could register Fenris’ faint arousal through their bond. He glanced down and watched as Fenris took his time coming to awareness, which was unusual for the naga.

“Usually you are the first awake,” Anders murmured once Fenris had sort of made eye contact with him. “...are you going into, uh, what was the term that the book said?”

“Heat?” Fenris rumbled, then he coughed once to clear his throat. He managed to pull away from Anders afterwards and seemed a lot more lucid a few beats later. Fenris shook his head. “We don’t have heats, exactly. We have specific mating times, is what I think the book said. Something about temperature. Change of season.”

Anders nodded. “It’s about the time of year when the days are as long as the nights, same as when I first met you.” He paused, frowning. “You’re really warm. Are you feeling alright?”

Fenris nodded. “I didn’t feel this way during any of my previous laying cycles. Perhaps… perhaps it is because we are connected.” He blinked a few times and then began scanning the room for something. “I brought the book with us from the library last night. Where did we put it?” Anders turned around and plucked it from the bedside table. “Here it is. There’s still a lot more to translate, and if you have to lay the eggs today, I don’t think we’re going to find what you want to know in time.” Fenris took the book and shook his head.

“I think we should have enough information to at least get through today. Do you also have that one book with the bit about naga subspecies? You might be right about the heat thing, but it’s likely not related to my being a naga.”

Suddenly, things started to make sense. 

“You might be right about that,” Anders said, gingerly reaching up to touch one of Fenris’ pointed ears. Fenris’ eyes went wide for a moment, and he moaned softly. Anders yanked his hand away. “Sorry, sorry! I, um, didn’t mean to do that.”

Fenris chuckled, sliding back down beneath the covers. Anders frowned again, and noticed that practically all of the naga was beneath the blankets. No wonder he’d been so warm.

“It felt… really good, though,” Fenris sighed contentedly. 

Anders tilted his head, trying to listen to the faint impulses that their connection was sending him. He had to give up after a little while because he just wasn’t that good at interpreting Fenris’ feelings in the way that Fenris was at interpreting his, but before he committed himself to tending to his mate’s needs, he needed to arrange a few things first.

“I can do it again,” he suggested, “but first I need to tell the kitchen staff to deliver our meals for today and I’d like to speak to Harea for a few minutes. Maybe Velanna too if I can find her somewhere. Can you handle me being gone for a little while?”

Fenris nodded. “I think so, yes, but do not feel like you need to rush.” Anders huffed and leaned down to capture the naga’s lips in a tender kiss that elicited a rumbling purr from Fenris.

“Thank you for the reassurance,” Anders said as he got up and dressed quickly into a shirt, trousers, and boots, “but I think I shall still hurry back regardless. I miss you already.” Fenris grumbled and waved him away. “Go, do what you need to do. If I thought you were going to run off you wouldn’t’ve even left this bed.” 

Anders snorted. “Now that I’ll believe. Alright, I’ll be back soon, love.”

Fenris merely turned over and mumbled something into the pillows that Anders couldn’t quite make out, but their connection quieted when he was a few paces down the hall towards the kitchens, signalling that the naga had likely returned to sleep. Anders practically vibrated with nerves as he walked down there and relayed his request to a serving girl who agreed that it would be no problem to send them enough food and drink for the day.

“Just knock twice, and then leave,” Anders instructed. “I’ll bring the food in myself.”

Again the girl agreed to pass the information along, and Anders quickly made his way back to the infirmary after that. He stumbled across the threshold and found Harea at a brewing stand with Velanna perched on a stool nearby. The two woman looked up sharply when he entered, and both seemed startled at his appearance. 

“Are you alright, Anders?” Harea asked, sounding concerned. “You look quite… flushed.”

Velanna wrinkled her nose. “Fenris has begun his mating cycle, I suppose.” Anders nodded. “Yes, though he tells me that this cycle is different than ones he’s had in the past. Even more different than the one he had six months ago.” Harea glanced at Velanna. “Mating? I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.” Velanna blinked at her, stupefied, though it appeared to dawn on Harea only moments later as she gasped quietly and daintily covered her mouth with one hand.

“Oh! _Oh._ I think I see now. Apologies, Velanna, I am less familiar with… such things because of my upbringing. In the Circle, we are taught to brew suppressants to stem our “sinful urge to seek out pleasure for pleasure’s sake.” Ugh.” She scowled, but then continued with, “You are more likely to be of use to Anders than I, since I have not been able to… indulge in that particular experience.” Harea sighed, and merely shrugged when Velanna just gave the other woman a sad stare. “And please, don’t look at me like that. I’ve… experienced heats since then, but I’ve not desired any one particular person to share them with.”

Velanna nodded. “It is quite alright. With what you have told me of your past, your desire for a more considerate partner is… understandable.” She glanced at Anders.

“Tell me, what would you know about elven heats?”

Anders ran a hand through his hair and shuffled his feet uneasily. “I don’t know. Anything you can. When I woke up a little while ago, Fenris was… very warm. I seem to be the more… agitated between the two of us, because he went back to sleep when I left to make arrangements for our food and drink. I am… anxious to return, but I needed to see if either of you could tell me more about what we’re experiencing.”

Velanna nodded, looking him up and down, studying him.

“The agitation is not from Fenris’ elven nature,” she said at last. “It is more likely a simple physical manifestation of your concern. Don’t be.”

At her words, Anders’ anxiety seemed to lessen immediately, and he was able to stop shuffling and focus on her words. “It is… unusual for him to be so… lethargic,” he told her, and Velanna nodded as she processed this. “Now that _does_ sound more like an elven mating. The extra sleep is necessary, because the sex that comes later is… very intense. I cannot say how this will affect you, but the fever and lethargy should pass towards the evening. Maybe. I don’t know how it will effect Fenris since he’s an elven _naga_ , but…”

Anders shrugged. “Your insight is most appreciated, regardless. Thanks for your help, Velanna.”

Then he turned around just after seeing a slightly shocked expression flash across her face, and he all but ran back to their quarters to find Fenris exactly where he’d left him. Anders sighed, crawling onto the bed to lay next to his sleeping mate where he remained until the knock for breakfast sounded at their door.

Fenris stirred as Anders got up and brought the food and drink inside. Their connection flooded with a sensation that set Anders’ mouth to salivating.

“Hungry, are you?” he asked Fenris as he brought the tray to the bed for them to eat from, setting their drinks aside on the nearby table. Fenris nodded, looking more lucid than he had when he’d first woken up. “Suddenly, I am ravenous. May I ask what you discovered about elven mating?” Anders told him what Velanna had said, and Fenris seemed more at ease.

“It is strange that such a thing only came up now, however,” he said thoughtfully, though Anders shook his head in disagreement. “Perhaps not so strange. You’ve never had sex with someone during your laying cycle before me, so maybe that had something to do with it. I know that for elves like Harea and Velanna, they start wanting to mate around the time that they are finished maturing physically, but you’re an elven naga, so maybe this… delayed heat is related to that.”

“Maybe,” Fenris agreed. “It still bothers me that we couldn’t find anything about it in our books.”

Anders shrugged. “There’s still quite a bit that we haven’t translated, and maybe no one’s just ever bothered to write it down. Maybe there’s nothing to find, and this is just something we have to… figure out.” He reached for one of Fenris’ hands and slowly rubbed his thumb against Fenris’ skin. “Perhaps it is best that we try not to worry and see where our instincts take us. I said that I trusted you a few days ago, and I trust you still. A part of me knows you won’t hurt me, and I certainly won’t hurt you.”

Fenris moved closer until he was practically in Anders’ lap, and he pressed his face against where the bite mark on Anders’ neck gleamed. Anders immediately bent to press his face against Fenris’, and he felt the naga’s body grow warm and lax again.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Fenris said at last when he finally extricated himself from Anders’ embrace to resume eating their breakfast. “Thank you for the reassurance.”

Anders merely hummed in response as he took a drink from the apple cider that had come with their breakfast, which he then gave to Fenris for him to taste. The naga all but melted back into the bedsheets again, their connection thrumming with the contentment of a full stomach.

“Apples… so good…” he murmured into the pillows, purring again.

Anders just chuckled as the naga fell back to sleep, and he gathered up the remains of breakfast, placing the tray outside in the spot where it had been left for them. He returned to the bed and settled in next to Fenris, the anatomy book in his lap.

Throughout the day he kept himself busy with translating it, and tending to Fenris’ needs whenever he rose from sleep. They bathed, they ate lunch, even indulged in a little foreplay. As the day wore on, Anders’ agitation faded and Fenris grew more and more lucid after each period of rest. It wasn’t until after they had eaten dinner and Anders placed the tray outside of the room that they began to notice the change in the air.

When Anders rejoined Fenris on the bed, the naga immediately lay over him and claimed his lips in a searing kiss. The effect was as intense as it was near instantaneous, pleasure flooding his system in slow, sweeping pulses.

“It feels… just like when you bit me the first time,” he panted, and then added, “only… I can actually feel my hands.” He laughed, remembering how uncoordinated he’d been that first time because Fenris had been in such a hurry to make him numb to any potential pain. Fenris chuckled too, likely because Anders had shared that memory across their connection and found it as amusing as he had.

“There’s no pain either,” Fenris hummed, moving down from Anders’ lips to his neck, nibbling at the tender flesh there and licking at the faded mark. Ander tried to do the same to Fenris’, however Fenris pulled back to stare at the mark and traced it gingerly with a finger, making Anders shudder with sudden feelings of _safety_ and _belonging_ that washed over him.

“I wonder,” Fenris began, his breath ghosting over the mark, “if this was what tied us together in the beginning. If instead of a simple bite, I gave you a mating mark.”

Anders blinked owlishly at Fenris.

“I… I read about those, while you were resting this morning. There was like an entire page about them.” Fenris hummed again, nodding. “And what did it say?” He reached up to his own neck where Anders’ bite had also yet to Fade. Anders felt his cheeks flush with heat.

“They’re basically like marriage vows, but with side effects.”

“Like sharing emotions… and thoughts?” Anders nodded. “I think that’s why we couldn’t share thoughts before, because you’d bitten me, but I hadn’t bitten you. And then afterwards…”

“...the connection was strengthened.”

Anders searched Fenris’ face for a reaction, and he grew increasingly agitated as the seconds passed. Fenris noticed his fear however and leaned back down to nuzzle Anders’ mark, finally allowing Anders access to Fenris’. Anders sighed in relief even when Fenris pulled away to meet his eyes, and this time he only found love lingering there.

“I know that I said before that I thought having your thoughts in my mind would be… disconcerting and uncomfortable. Now… my opinion of that has certainly changed. Without your thoughts to guide me to you, I am uncertain that I would have found you, before.”

Anders nodded again, and pressed his forehead to Fenris’.

“And your thoughts fill the silence of my mind,” he whispered. “I don’t feel like I need to chatter to fill it, even when we are apart.”

Fenris gave him a tender smile and kissed him briefly before sliding backwards to divest Anders of his shirt. Almost immediately he descended on Anders’ chest, gently dragging his teeth across his pectorals and nipples, causing Anders to yelp and moan. His mouth began to fill with a familiar sweetness as his arousal grew, causing him to lick his lips in anticipation.

Anders reached for Fenris’ ears, gently running his fingers along the skin, trailing the shells of the ears, rubbing soothing circles at the place where they joined to Fenris’ head. The instant Anders’ fingers had brushed the skin, Fenris melted against the mage with a loud moan.

Fenris scoffed when he heard Anders giggle at the reaction, but Anders knew that Fenris was definitely enjoying himself. The scent of arousal was so intense that even Anders could smell it, and he shivered under Fenris’ gaze when he pulled away from Anders’ hands to scoot back and tug gently at the waistband of his trousers.

“Still alright?” Fenris breathed, and Anders nodded vehemently.

Fenris’ intense gaze grew tender as he pulled, but not once did he look away as he removed and discarded the article of clothing. There was something strangely more intimate now about this act that Anders couldn’t place, knowing Fenris’ thoughts and feelings in the way that he now did. He was suddenly swept with the desire to kiss Fenris, causing him to sit up and draw Fenris to him as he all but tried to meld himself to the naga’s mouth.

Fenris chuckled when they had to pull away for air, leaving Anders practically shaking as he shifted impatiently on the bed, now quite aroused.

“Maker,” he swore, “I’ve never been this tense during sex…”

“Could be any number of things,” Fenris murmured. “Lay back down for me… I want to try to lay the eggs soon, if that’s alright with you. I get the feeling that… it should feel… _good_. Don’t you?”

Anders nodded. His body felt so ready for it, and he wanted it so terribly he practically ached for it. Fenris’ tail wound around his legs, comforting him and arousing all at once. He let Fenris spread him wide enough to start preparing him – _Wait. When did you get the oil?_

Fenris chuckled again as he took his sweet time stretching him, loosening him.

_While you were busy trying to grind against my scales. I almost didn’t want you to stop._

Anders frowned, not quite remembering when he’d been occupied with _that_ particular action, but it didn’t seem relevant after Fenris bent down to take his cock into his mouth. The heat was the first thing he registered, followed by rhythmic sparks of pleasure that ran all along his spine, causing his hips to canter forward. Fenris remained unhurried, though he let Anders rock his hips as often as he liked.

Then Fenris’ teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot as inside, his fingers twisted and curled, pressing against his prostate. Anders cried out with a wordless shout as Fenris lapped up every last drop of cum before removing his fingers and arranging the pillows and blankets until he seemed satisfied.

“Alright, Anders,” he panted. “The eggs are shifting. It’s now or never. Are you ready?”

Anders took a few deep breaths to come down from his euphoric high before he could respond, nodding to Fenris and taking one of the naga’s hands.

“I think so. I’m as ready as I’m ever gonna be.” 

Fenris shifted until Anders was lying half on top of the naga. The warmth from behind was comforting, even as he glanced down to watch Fenris’ tail shift to wrap around Anders’ legs again, this time allowing for the tip of the tail to slide over Anders’ middle. The anatomy book had at least been somewhat useful in preparing Anders for what came next, as an organ Anders recalled as an ovipositor emerged from the slit that was about an arm’s length from where Fenris’ length usually appeared from. The organ looked similar to his penises, though it was thicker and not barbed.

Anders jerked a little when he felt it press against his hole despite Fenris’ warning, but he forced himself to relax. He was surprised by the moan that fell from his lips as Fenris’ ovipositor inched deeper and deeper inside until it hit that spot where the eggs would be kept… and it locked into place. It wasn’t quite the same way Fenris’ penises locked in place, but Anders got the impression that they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. 

He felt Fenris press his face into his hair, which had been left unbound from its usual ponytail and now hung about his face in soft, red-gold waves.

“Still okay?” Fenris asked, and Anders nodded.

“Yeah. I feel a little… weird, but… I think I’m okay.” Fenris held him tighter and pulled a blanket over to wrap around their shoulders. “Does this help?” Warmth settled over their shoulders, making Anders sigh contentedly.

Behind him, Fenris grunted softly.

“Are the eggs…?”

Fenris nodded. “They’re moving.”

Anders closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. It was a little difficult because he could sort of feel the eggs moving in places where Fenris’ tail wrapped around his legs, but when he felt a surprised spike of pleasure from Fenris followed by a gasp, he felt it. The ovipositor began to pulse softly as a rounded, oblong object passed through his entrance, moving only at each pulse. Anders’ body tensed, and not from fear–but pleasure.

He threw back his head and groaned softly as Fenris bent to moan into Anders’ shoulder.

“This feels… so much different than last time,” Fenris panted. All Anders could manage was a soft grunt of surprise as the first egg made it through the ovipositor and settled inside after a wave of pleasure swept through him. His cock twitched and dribbled a little, and on impulse he reached down to stroke himself. He moaned a little when he felt a second egg roll through against the second, his hips jerking reflexively. 

Both of them groaned at that, and the pulses sped up very briefly. This deposited a few more eggs in the process, pushing Anders over the edge again and splattering cum all over his stomach. Fenris seemed to just hold himself on the edge of orgasm for a while until Anders’ third orgasm, and by now there was a very visible, very round tightness to Anders’ middle that had him staring.

Fenris’ hands came up to rub at Anders’ shoulders after he appeared to have recovered from the intense waves of pleasure.

“It’s going to be alright,” he soothed. “I said some magisters did this for pleasure, yes? You’re alright, I promise.” Anders felt Fenris’ lips graze the mating mark on his neck, and his initial panic faded momentarily. It still lingered for a little while, but then Fenris asked to touch, is curiosity brushing Anders’ thoughts. He was a little curious now as well, and he agreed almost immediately. He did not expect to _like_ the feeling of Fenris’ hand rubbing circles into his belly as it grew, but he did.

In fact, he liked it so much that he came again. 

“How… many… left?” he panted, and Fenris paused a moment to think.

“Not many,” he breathed after a little while, adding, “it should be over very soon.”

Anders surprised himself by letting out a soft whine of protest, and Fenris chuckled. “You’ll get to do it in reverse in about a week, you know.” Fenris sighed, rubbing Anders’ belly again, his thoughts turning possessive and covetous. “You look so… beautiful like this, you know.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” Fenris murmured, pressing kisses along Anders’ neck. A litany of yeses chanted over and over in Anders’ mind, and he jerked his hips to speed the pulses along. The eggs came faster, as he’d expected, but Fenris had been right about there not being very many. The last few were a little larger than the rest however, and Fenris actually had to push through the pulses to help them along, but that was what finally did it for Anders.

When the last one passed through and settled with the rest of them, Fenris brushed a hand across his already sensitive middle as he captured the mage’s lips in a searing kiss. Anders’ hips jerked twice as he pumped his cock, and he came for a final time as Fenris was detaching and bringing the ovipositor back inside himself.

Anders lay in a haze of bliss as Fenris cleaned them both off and readjusted the nest around them to his liking.

“How are you feeling?” he asked Anders, sounding about as exhausted as Anders felt.

“Sleepy,” Anders mumbled. “Full.”

It was a very different kind of full than the times that Fenris had cum inside of him. Despite his initial fear, the slight swell of his middle now felt comforting. Even though they were just eggs, there was a kind of… maternal feeling attached to his thoughts as well, though it was not overpowering. He studied himself for a little while and guessed that, were he actually pregnant, he’d be about four, five months along?

On someone as skinny as he was, it was rather obvious, but the sight no longer bothered him.

“I wonder what might be different,” Anders whispered, “if they weren’t just eggs.” Fenris sidled up close to Anders and sighed. “I don’t know. I got the impression though, that I would need to have sex in the days before the laying occurs. Then somehow my body would figure out which eggs aren’t fertilized, and expel the rest during my cycle.”

“It makes sense, I suppose,” Anders agreed. “But children are… well. They’re a big commitment. Maybe… maybe someday? I don’t know. Do _you_ want them someday?”

There was a long period of silence as Fenris contemplated the question.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“It’s alright if you don’t know,” Anders assured him. “I never expected to be free of the Circle, or to find someone new to love that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. To know that I could potentially have children with you is a bonus–but I don’t need any for my life to be complete.”

Fenris nodded in understanding. “I just need you.”

 _Exactly_ , Anders agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snakes don't have heats, as Fenris states, but I wanted to give the laying a little, um, _pizzazz_ so... I borrowed a bit from some tropes about elves and heats.
> 
> Also, there is no mpreg tag because it this is ovi kink, not mpreg. Hence all the talk about whether they want kids in the future and stuff.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which eggs are laid (or birthed, depending on how you look at it), the Warden returns early with some disturbing news from Weisshaupt, and despite her revelations, Anders and Fenris remain convicted in their commitment to one another.

In the days that followed, it was Anders, not Fenris, who wished to remain holed away in their quarters. He felt uncertain about how the others would see him, but Fenris managed to convince him that his appearance was nothing to fuss over.

He wore his Warden robes loose that first morning, and was extremely conscious of how the eggs shifted inside him. However, as Fenris had assured him, few gave him a second glance. Nathaniel, Kyle, Harea, and Velanna had all noticed, but were quite subtle about it. Justice, Oghren, and Sigrun were less so, but they did refrain from asking him about with so many other Wardens around.

They cornered the pair of them in the library later that morning.

“You really did it, Sparkle-fingers?” Oghren asked, looking him up and down, but stood back when he noticed Anders’ discomfort. “Uh, yeah. I did.” He glanced at Sigrun, who was staring up at him with pleading eyes. “Can I touch? Please?” Anders frowned, his hands reflexively reaching up to protect the eggs. Sigrun took a step forward and paused, finally noticing his stiff posture. She chuckled sheepishly.

“Sorry Anders, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She looked so devastated that Anders suddenly couldn’t find it in him to refuse her request.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he told her seriously. “I’m just… really tender. Be gentle.”

He took one of her hands and placed it in a spot where he thought more eggs had settled. She poked and prodded him a little, and when he tensed up after one too many touches, she pulled away. “Sorry,” she said again, “but that’s really kinda cool.”

Oghren grumbled. “I dunno about that, exactly, but uh… you know. You do you, kid.”

Anders snorted. He glanced at Justice, who waited until the two dwarves had left to approach.

“I was informed that you and Fenris were occupied yesterday with a… mating ritual?” Justice said as he approached. “I confess I do not understand it.” Anders shrugged, feeling more at ease speaking with the spirit that he ever had before.

“I wouldn’t call it a ritual, exactly,” he drawled. “But I suppose it could be considered that, since there are certain steps to it, certain things you can expect to happen when certain actions are taken or performed.” Justice nodded, though his expression was unreadable. “I also understand that this ritual was… not for procreation.” 

“Yes,” Anders confirmed, “though it could be. Children are a… they’re an investment. They need a lot of nurturing and care that Fenris and I feel we aren’t ready to provide. Maybe someday.”

Justice nodded again, slower this time.

“It’s alright if you do not understand,” Fenris chimed in, drawing the spirit’s attention. “Anders tells me that spirits of the Fade do not necessarily have sex or gender, and therefore do not likely... procreate.”

“That is… correct,” Justice said slowly. “Though this body possessed that desire once, to have a child with his wife.” The spirit closed his eyes and frowned. Anders thought he saw a kind of longing in the planes of the face that had once belonged to the Warden Kristoff, but it was gone when Justice opened his eyes. “He too understood that children were a commitment that required much of his time. He had… intended to go back to his wife after the Blight was over and try for one with her…”

“...and he never got the chance,” Anders sighed.

“His death was avenged,” Justice grumbled. “However, I believe I understand the wisdom in refraining from having children until one is capable of caring for them if they wish for them.”

The spirit nodded once and gave a curt bow of acknowledgement to both Anders and Fenris.

“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me,” he said, and quietly exited the library, leaving them to resume their day in peace.

The others came to Anders in their own good time. Nathaniel was by with Velanna in the evening, though it surprised Anders that it was Nathaniel who wanted to touch and not Velanna. The blonde elf did give him a look that for a moment he thought was a smirk, though it faded quickly as she jerked her chin at him.

“Happy now, that you’ve finally bedded an elf?”

Fenris, who had been hovering nearby, growled softly as Anders sighed.

“Velanna–” he tried to say, but Fenris interrupted him. “I am not–” Velanna shrugged, holding up a finger to interrupt Fenris.. “It matters little what’s below your waist, be it legs or a tail. You have the ears, and certainly the attitude.” Then she did something Anders had never seen Velanna do: she flashed Fenris a smile.

“To me, that makes you one of my own, and I’m glad that you got stuck with this one,” she said, jerking her head in Anders’ direction and adding, “and not whoever the bastard was that kept you like a pet.” She spat the last word with so much vitriol that even Fenris was shocked, but he recovered quickly and nodded his thanks.

“I certainly second that,” Fenris chuffed. “And I thank you for the sentiment.”

Velanna nodded sharply and then left without a word, Nathaniel staring after her.

“Hey lover boy,” Anders called to get his attention. “Your lover is walking off without you.” The archer stared at him and spluttered. “W–Wha… hey, how did you know?!”

Anders blinked at Nathaniel owlishly. “Uh… I didn’t.” He paused, then flashed Nathaniel a devilish grin. “But I do now.” Nathaniel groaned and ran off after Velanna while Fenris leaned over to whisper in his ear, “He’s been with Sigrun too, I can smell it. I think the three of the are together.” That sent Anders into a fit of laughter that had him wheezing.

“Ow, oh, ow that hurts, ow.” He clutched at a stitch in his side that had Fenris immediately fussing, but Anders waved him away. “I’m alright, I’m fine, I promise. Oh.” Anders grabbed a few loose papers and began fanning himself to cool down.

“I haven’t had a good laugh like that in a while, thank you. And really, I’m fine. The eggs were just pressing against my lungs a little. Caught a bit of a stitch, but I’m alright.”

He flashed another smile at Fenris, who relaxed, nodding.

“I am glad that I could make you laugh in spite of your discomfort.” Anders shrugged. “I think it might’ve been worse had you not dragged me out of our quarters today. I’m grateful that you did.” Fenris merely smiled and huddled next to Anders as they began translating the rest of the anatomy book.

It wasn’t until the second day that Kyle and Harea walked into the clinic after breakfast that they approached him to ask how he was feeling. No one else apart from maybe Stroud and Varel had noticed, but he doubted they would bother to ask. Kyle and Harea were quite curious, however, and he let them touch a little while longer than he had the others.

“I’ll admit, it’s a bit weird,” Kyle confessed, “but you seem to be alright.”

Beside him, Harea actually _giggled_.

“I think it’s sweet that they have so much faith in each other,” she said, and Kyle ducked his head. “It is admirable, I must admit,” and that seemed to satisfy Harea before she turned back to Anders. “How long will you have them inside?”

Anders shrugged. “Could be anywhere from a couple days to a couple weeks. It just depends. If they stay in for longer than we’re comfortable, Fenris has a toxin he can introduce into my system to uh, jumpstart the, ah… removal process.” Harea nodded. “That’s good. I know you were a little… concerned about it when I first met you.”

“Trust and faith can be fostered in the strangest of ways,” Fenris commented from his place at the chair by the window. Anders glanced back at him.

“Speaking of trust, are these two together?” he asked, causing Harea to yelp and Kyle to splutter. Fenris didn’t even bother to look up from the book he was reading. “Yes, but they have not been intimate.” Then he turned to look at Harea, who was a little startled, his gaze softening. “Not that it is such a terrible thing to wait,” he said, and after a few moments, she nodded.

“Well, um. I would appreciate it if… you kept this quiet?” she turned to look at Kyle, saying, “It’s not that I’m ashamed of you or anything–”

Kyle shrugged. “No, I get it,” he said and Anders nodded. “Of course, Harea. I must ask though, w–when did…?” Harea blushed. “I might’ve had a talk with Velanna about mating after you left and realized a few things. I also decided that life was too short to twiddle one’s thumbs, especially when one is a Warden, and Kyle agreed.”

“It isn’t too short for your comfort, though,” Kyle insisted. “And even if you never decide you’re ready to share that part of yourself with me, I’d be alright with that.”

Harea made a dismissive sound in her throat and gave the other Warden a side-eyed smirk.

“I appreciate it, but don’t think that I’m gonna go easy on you whenever we spar. I’m still gonna kick your ass.” Kyle snorted. “Harea, I’d be honored to let you kick my ass.”

“No, damnit, you’re gonna make me earn that ass-kicking,” she insisted.

“Yes ma’am!” Kyle said as they left the room, laughing.

Anders and Fenris stared after them, stupefied. “They’re a little strange,” Fenris said after a while, though Anders merely chuckled. “I think they’re cute though, in their strangeness. Kyle’s a good fit for her.” Fenris slid off of the chair and slithered up next to Anders. “He is indeed,” he purred, and Anders sighed.

“Hey, hold on before you get me all hot and bothered there. I need to close the door for a second.” Fenris’ rumbling chuckle echoed in his head and in his ears as he scrambled to close and lock the clinic door.

Not long afterwards, he found himself pressed into one of the clinic beds with Fenris’ hands quickly hiking up his robes.

“We have to do this quickly,” he panted when those hands began running over his belly to stroke the eggs within and causing a rather uncomfortable tightness to form in his trousers. “Maker, this reminds me of my Circle days, dodging behind bookcases and into broom closets for a quick wank.” Fenris chuffed.

“Did you not tell me once that you felt we _should_ be fumbling about in the dark?” 

Anders laughed, recalling the day he’d said as much the first time they’d shared a bath. “Yeah, I did. So… how quickly can we do this, hmm?” Fenris flashed him a wicked grin. “Let’s find out, why don’t we?” Then he pulled down Anders’ trousers and set to work sending Anders off on a brief trip to the Golden City.

* * *

A week later, Anders and Fenris were in the library, finishing the last of the anatomy book’s translations. It had done much to clarify a few more things about mating, but not everything. Interspecies children had no mention in the text, but Anders had sort of expected that, with the book being written in Tevene.

Anders had also shared the contents of Genitivi’s travelogue with Fenris and discussed the various methods detailed inside with the naga at length.

“I still do not like the thought of that… thing being in your head,” Fenris grumbled. “We share thoughts, remember?” Anders nodded. “It’s not like I’ve decided to this for certain, Fenris. I just… I think he deserves better than what’s happened to him. He should have the chance to go home, you know? I’m not exactly thrilled with the thought of… taking a spirit into my soul either.”

He sighed and Fenris nuzzled his shoulder gently. “You are afraid,” he observed, and Anders nodded. “I don’t want to become an abomination and… hurt you, or something. I think I’d rather die than that.” He scowled. “I don’t want to have to use blood magic to–”

A bell rang off in the distance, cutting him off. He frowned. 

“Isn’t that the summoning bell?” Fenris asked, a little confused.

Anders nodded. “Yeah… I–I suppose we should go, then.” Fenris nodded. Anders was glad to have worn his thicker robes today, as they obscured his egg bump better than his other ones, and they set off towards the receiving hall. They shuffled in and found the rest of their friends who were gathered close on one side and speculating about what was happening.

“Hey, Nate,” Anders huffed as he gingerly touched the archer’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Hell if I know. Stroud looks like he doesn’t know who it is either. Varel seems excited though.”

Just then the doors to the hall opened and in walked… Rashia.

Anders jaw dropped when he caught sight of her, walking in as though she’d never left. There was a kind of fury in her eyes though that he couldn’t fathom the origin of, and the staff on her back appeared to have had some… interesting adjustments made to it, but otherwise it was definitely her. She strode right up to Stroud and Varel, offering her arm to him after she’d ascended the few steps before the throne, and he clasped it firmly.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Commander Amell,” Stroud said, and after he was finished, he inclined his head to her. “I assume your quick return means that you intend to stay here at Vigil’s Keep?” Rashia made a dismissive noise in the back of her throat and nodded. “Whether or not Weisshaupt wishes it, yes. I am here to stay.”

She turned to address the Wardens gathered, and greeted them.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. However, I must ask that you return to your duties, with the exceptions of all senior wardens. We shall reconvene in the library; I have some things I wish to discuss.”

Anders and Fenris exchanged looks with the other “senior wardens”.

“Well, back to the library?” Anders chuckled, and Fenris snorted.

They made their way back faster than the others, and found Rashia there, pacing in a circle. She looked up when they entered, and for a moment, the tension and fury fell from her face.

“Anders!” She cried, “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

Then she rushed to hug him, startling him a bit. He started to hug her back, but then she pulled away and glanced down at his middle, her eyes wide.

“Whoa,” she whistled. “That’s different.” She looked at Fenris, who chuckled sheepishly.

“Things have… changed quite a bit,” Fenris admitted, and Rashia nodded slowly. She turned back to Anders and gave him a cursory once-over. “So they have.” Anders let her pat at his belly for a bit before she asked, “You’re alright then? How long do the eggs stay inside?” Anders opened his mouth to tell her, but just then he felt a sharp tightening in his middle and a wave of heat caused him to break out into a sweat.

He swore softly. “Uh, not very long, actually.” He glanced back at Fenris, who had noticed his distress at once. Anders turned back to Rashia and chuckled sheepishly. “Must’ve been all of the running,” he told her, panting slightly as he felt the eggs beginning to shift. 

“Sorry, but I need to excuse myself for, um… a couple hours?”

Fenris cut in with, “I could help you rush it along, I suppose. You might even like it, actually. We could be back within the hour, if you need Anders here.” He said this last bit to Rashia while Anders muttered, “Sorry about this,” again. Rashia merely fussed over him as she escorted them back to their quarters. “It’s fine, Anders. I’ll tell the others to wait, alright? I can, ah, say you had a patient or something?”

Anders laughed, though a moan escaped him at the end of it as he felt an egg descending.

“Sweet Maker,” he cursed. “That’s embarrassing– um… no, just tell them the truth. They all know, so it’s not like this is news. And it’ll be obvious when we show up with a sling of eggs and I look significantly less… pregnant.”

Rashia chuckled, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Well, try not to enjoy yourself for too long?” she asked, and Anders merely groaned as he shut the door behind him, hearing her faint laughter echoing from down the hall.

Anders leaned against the door, hesitant to remove his clothing just yet even as Fenris was frantically laying some towels across the bed. The eggs shifted again and he moaned softly, feeling his smalls grow tight and his channel moisten all on its own.

“The eggs,” he panted, “are coming quickly.” Fenris glanced back, seemingly satisfied with his placement of towels. He seemed a little concerned from what Anders could feel through their connection, though he was more baffled than afraid. “That’s unusual for me,” he muttered, frowning, “but you’re human and I’ve never laid eggs in a person before. Perhaps this is natural.” Anders laughed, but the eggs shifted further, causing him to moan again.

“Shit, this feels so good,” he breathed. Fenris tugged at his robes. “The clothing needs to come off, Anders. Just for a bit.” Anders nodded and helped Fenris remove his clothes, and eventually he settled on the bed, naked and kneeling. Fenris’ thick tail was wrapped around his legs, keeping him supported, and Anders’ back was to Fenris’ chest, the naga’s arms wrapped around Anders and his chin resting on one shoulder.

“Seems you won’t have to bite me after all,” Anders managed through a few short breaths. Fenris chuckled, and the sound vibrated through Anders, causing spikes of pleasure to shoot through him. “I still could, you know. Make you feel _really_ good. Would you like that?”

“This… there’s something better than this?” Anders asked, and he felt Fenris nod as he pressed his lips to Anders’ mating mark. “There is, I promise.”

“Alright then,” Anders dared, “show me.” 

Fenris bit down, and Anders’ pleasure suddenly increased. He couldn’t give an accurate estimate as to how much, but his brain felt like mush as the first egg slid through him with just a little more ease. Fenris nibbled at his shoulders and toyed with his nipples, the combined sensations making his legs tremble, but Fenris’ tail was doing its job holding him up All Anders could do was occasionally push when the eggs slowed their pace and ride out the waves of pleasure that coursed through him.

It was actually a fairly pleasant experience, Anders thought. It was less intense than the actual insertion of the eggs had been, and it certainly felt more intimate. When Anders felt the first egg leave him and heard the soft thud as it rolled onto the towels, tears welled up in his eyes that Fenris brushed away. 

“Are you alright?” Fenris whispered, to which Anders nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. There’s just… a lot of things I’m feeling right now.”

Anders felt Fenris nod and hold him even closer. He could never recall feeling more safe and cared for than he did now. He leaned into Fenris’ touch, both the physical and mental, and let each little moan the eggs’ movements caused to fall from his lips because he knew how much Fenris liked hearing his pleasure.

He didn’t bother counting the eggs, because Fenris did. _Ten… twelve… sixteen…_ He’d closed his eyes to lose himself in the pleasure, so he couldn’t _see_ so much as _feel_ the shrinking of his middle, but he heard Fenris describing it to him. _I’m going to miss the slight roundness, you know,_ Fenris said. _I shall have to see if I can get you to eat more so I have a bit of overindulgence to knead while I pleasure you…_

Another egg dropped, and Fenris’ tail moved it out of the way to join the others.

_Twenty. Should be almost done._

It wasn’t long after that the last eggs slid through Anders, each one hitting his sweet spot along the way and causing him to go over the edge at last. 

Gingerly, Fenris moved Anders to the side so that he could gather and clean off the eggs. Anders recovered rather quickly and cleaned himself off, though he was reluctant to leave the bed to dress while the eggs still remained. “They’re nesting instincts,” Fenris told him. “That’s what you’re feeling.”

Anders blinked as he sat up, nodding. “This is what you were feeling after… after you laid them that first time.”

“You seem to be feeling them more than I, this time,” Fenris observed. “Perhaps because you carried them inside you for a little while, and then… laid them.” Anders chuckled. “Humans give birth to things, we don’t generally lay eggs.” Fenris scoffed. “Semantics. They were in you, and then they came out of you. You got attached. I understand the impulse.”

Anders laughed. “You have such a way with words, love.”

Fenris grunted. “I’ll put them in a sling for you if you want, but first you should get dressed. Rashia and the others are likely still waiting for us.” Anders felt his face flush as he put on his uniform, somehow still managing to be surprised that he could wear a proper belt again. Shit. “As… uncomfortable as this makes me,” he confessed, “I’m glad it happened shortly before, and not during.” Fenris nodded as he brought over a sling, and fastened it around Anders.

Immediately, Anders felt less… anxious.

“I suppose that would have made things a bit more awkward,” Fenris agreed with a grin. Anders resisted the impulse to smack the naga’s shoulder. After they were presentable again, they left their rooms and made their way back to the library. Everyone’s heads turned as they entered, and Anders was relieved that he didn’t blush under the sudden attention. 

Anders waved sheepishly to his friends.

“Sorry I’m late–uh, well, as you can see, things happened. We’re here now, that’s all that matters, right?”

Rashia cleared her throat, and everyone turned to her as she nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She winked and flashed the two of them a slight smile before she sighed and looked around. “Well, I suppose I should get right to things: you can probably guess that my visit in Weisshaupt did not go… as optimally as it could have, so I decided to leave early. I am glad of it, having heard what occurred little over a week ago from Ser Stroud.” She glanced at Anders.

“I’m glad you’re alright. I meant it when I said I would’ve been very put out to find you gone when I returned.” She inclined her head to Fenris. “And thank you for keeping him out of trouble.” Fenris made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat. “I kept him alive, there’s a difference.” Rashia snorted. “Well, thanks anyway.” She turned back to the group.

“I would like to share some disturbing news that I learned while there, about the city of Kirkwall.”

Stroud frowned. “I had heard there was unrest in the Deep Roads there and desired to plan an expedition.” Rashia nodded. “That was concerning, yes, and I won’t say an expedition shouldn’t be planned, but I’m more concerned about potentially infected refugees spreading Blight around to a population of people that, to my knowledge, are largely left without food, shelter, and access to a healer.”

“You want to set up a clinic?” Anders asked, curious. He couldn’t hide his interest and worry from Fenris, who shuffled nervously beside him.

Rashia nodded. “It would be easier to set up a Warden outpost and run a clinic on the side. That way, Kirkwall’s Knight Commander doesn’t get any ideas about messing with _my_ mages.” Kyle, who had been silent until now, raised his hand to gather everyone’s attention before speaking.

“With all due respect, Commander–”

“Rashia will do,” she cut in. Kyle didn’t miss a beat. “With all do respect, Rashia, Kirkwall is in the Free Marches. It’s not really our jurisdiction.” He glanced at Stroud. “Or is it?”

Stroud shrugged, and began stroking his mustache, looking thoughtful.

“If the refugees are from Ferelden, an outpost could be established on the grounds of containing an outbreak of Blight sickness. And even afterwards, once the outpost is established, as far as I know there is no rule saying that it cannot be maintained. In fact, as there are so few outposts in the Free Marches in general, I think it would not be such a terrible idea to establish one there. It was built upon one of the most extensively mapped sections of the Deep Roads, and there are many entrances that need to have eyes on them, for propriety’s sake.”

He turned to Rashia. “I can contact the Viscount, Grand Cleric, and Knight Commander at once, if you wish. It should of course bear your seal, as you are more well known than I, and your… background could potentially come in handy.” Rashia frowned at him. “The Amells were once quite prominent there, if I recall.”

“Ah, right. I remember now.” Rashia didn’t look terribly pleased about it, but she nodded and waved him off. “Very well, if you must. That was mostly the extent of what I wished to discuss, and it will take a while to make plans and select people for set-up. It may likely come down to a handful of trusted individuals, and not as many recruits unless you feel some are up for the task. Do let me know if that is so.” There was a rumble of agreement around the group, and Rashia nodded when it died down.

“I’m glad everyone understands. Now, I hope you will excuse me, but I am rather tired and would like to spend a few hours away from… everything.” Nathaniel nodded. “I understand, at least, though you can’t possibly know how glad I am to have you back.”

Rashia snorted. “After dealing with a few poncy Weisshaupt officials, I can guess. But Fereldan nobles seem almost tame in comparison now; I’m almost looking forward to pushing them around.” There was a quiet laughter that traveled around the group, who each bid their farewells to Rashia until Anders, Fenris, and Justice remained. 

“Commander,” Justice greeted her, to which she merely responded with a soft sigh. “Justice, I’ve told you to call me Rashia. I’m glad to see you’re… mostly in one piece.” She looked over at Anders. “How goes the research? Any luck?” Anders sighed. “I did finally receive Avernus’ reply to your letter a few days ago… but some of the suggestions were a little… well. Unorthodox.”

Rashia shook her head. “Mostly involving blood sacrifices, I assume.” Anders nodded. “I thought I had found something useful when I dsicovered a rare edition of Genitivi’s travelogue about the Avvar, but from what he writes, their methods are similarly so.”

“I thought the Avvar worshipped spirits like gods?”

Anders nodded once more. “The book says they do, and that young mages will even take spirits into them as, like, guides of a sort? The spirits apparently teach them how to wield their magic and they use a variety of rituals to send them back, but those that he writes about in detail require blood sacrifices.”

Rashia frowned. “I have met Brother Genitivi, and he was a decent enough man. However, he was still a Brother of the Chantry, and may have omitted other rituals that might not involve such things. Or his publisher might have made… edits. He told me in one of our discussions that his first draft of his book about Antiva was more… eventful than the final script would lead people to believe. Perhaps his book about the Avvar is the same.” 

“I still do not like the idea of Anders acquiring a… passenger,” Fenris chimed in. “Even if it is a… a spirit of… Justice such as yourself.” He nodded in Justice’s direction, and the spirit was surprisingly agreeable.

“Nor do I have a desire to possess a living host,” Justice grumbled, and Rashia nodded. “I know, but Kristoff’s corpse won’t keep forever, and I would like to return it to his wife at some point.” 

She sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

“I might have to ask you to take the risk, however. For reasons that I did not wish to share with the others. About Kirkwall.” Anders glanced between Fenris and Justice, and then back at Rashia, who was leaning against a book-laden table with a tired, worried expression. “What is it, then? What is wrong?”

“Ugh. What isn’t wrong with that city?” She sighed again, shaking her head. “A… feathered friend of mine was in the city some months ago and somehow got involved in some courier work for the Collective there. He made contact with Karl in the process and learned a few things about the state of the Circle there that he felt worrying enough to write to me about.” Anders’ breath caught, and the sound was loud enough in the stillness of the library that both Fenris and Justice noticed. Fenris frowned. 

“Karl… that friend that book used to belong to?”

Anders sighed. “He was a little more than a friend. I loved him once. That’s why that book meant a lot to me…” Fenris slided close and pressed her shoulders together. “I’m sorry you lost them. Both the book… and this Karl.”

“You lost _Fang of the Dragonlord_?” Rashia gasped, sounding a little distraught. Anders shrugged. “Rolan. There was a storm, and Kyle couldn’t find it anywhere. It doesn’t really matter now. What’s happening in the Gallows?” Rashia nodded, continuing. “Beatings, rape, tranquility without cause. The usual crimes, but on a larger scale. I haven’t been in contact with Karl myself, but Zevran gave me a few names of people that could help us do that.”

“What are you asking me to do, Rashia? Stage a rebellion? Start a revolt? I wouldn’t even know where to begin, not to mention starting one in Kirkwall sounds like a spectacularly terrible idea.”

Rasha snorted. “It is a terrible idea,” she agreed. “Rather, I was hoping that if you went there as a Warden, documented some of the goings on in the city, in the Gallows, tried figuring out what’s really going on, then perhaps you could come up with a written document of sorts to convince… I don’t know– _someone_ that things there need to change.”

“I am a _shit_ tactician,” Anders tried to stress. “I don’t know anything about what is right, what is–”

“Just?” Anders looked up and for a moment he thought Justice had chimed in, only to be utterly floored when their eyes turned to Fenris.

“You want Anders and Justice to join together to root out corruption in Kirkwall?” he asked.

Rashia blinked at Fenris owlishly. “I had not thought of it like that. I was thinking more about the corruption within Kirkwall’s Circle, but Kirkwall itself is… not great either. I would caution against trying to take on the whole city, though. Cities have a lot of people, and a lot of people in Kirkwall are probably suffering for a lot of unjust reasons–more than what a single person can address, Warden or no. In fact, people from Kirkwall in particular are rather resistant to taking advice from anyone, especially outsiders.”

She sighed, shrugging. “I’m not saying you have to do this with Justice. I’m just as willing to be the one to do it and go off to the Frostbacks and see if I can find a tribe that will show me how to send Justice back safely. I mean, Wynne carried a Spirit of Faith for years and no one noticed. How hard can it be?”

Anders was floored.

“Wynne?” he asked, unable to hide his shock. “Wynne was a–”

“Who is this Wynne?” Fenris asked, though Anders was still processing this new information to answer. Rashia noticed this and thankfully answered for him.

“She was a teacher of ours when we were apprentices at Kinloch Hold. And she was a Spirit Healer like us. Apparently this Spirit of Faith joined with her to save her life once, though her circumstances were certainly different than this.”

Fenris sighed deeply. “So evidently it can be done, but I am still hesitant about this plan of yours, no matter how noble your intentions.”

Rashia nodded curtly. “I quite understand. But I must ask before I leave you to think it over; what do you think of this, Justice?” The spirit was quiet for a long while, but eventually folded his arms to began to speak. “ You are offering me a chance to serve my purpose,” he said slowly, to which Rashia nodded in response.

“To my knowledge, spirits only become demons if they are denied their original purpose. I cannot say how much justice can be done for Kirkwall, but in the event that we cannot find a way to send you home, I thought… well. I thought it would be better than waiting for a corpse to rot and see what happens to you then.” Justice nodded. “I have little desire to see that happen either. By joining with either you or Anders, I could have a chance at returning home… and potentially help you right a wrong of this world.”

“Justice, I would ask that you exercise caution,” Rashia warned. “Not all the wrongs of this world can be righted by a single person, even a person sharing headspace with a virtuous spirit like you. And… you would likely lose your autonomy, be exposed to human emotions and desires. Wynne and her spirit didn’t seem to have a way to communicate either, so you would have to keep that in mind–there is a lot to consider here.”

The spirit nodded sagely. “I shall keep these things in mind,” he said, and turned to leave.

“How long do we have to think this over?” Anders asked, and Rashia sighed, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m afraid I cannot give you an accurate estimate, but I was hoping to do this before we left.”

“To give some time for adjustment?” Anders prompted, and Rashia opened her eyes to nod in agreement. “Yes. I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to ask, but when I read Karl’s name and the things that Zevran was telling me, I was… very concerned. In fact, if you can, try to get him out of there. Conscript him, if you must.”

Anders turned to Fenris, and to his surprise he found the naga’s thoughts running along a similar line to his own.

“We understand,” he said. “We shall think on it.”

Rashia smiled at them. “Thank you. That is more than I had hoped for.” Then she appeared to remember something and she fixed a stare on Anders. “Varel tells me you never asked him about your phylactery, you know. You’re lucky he remembered!”

Anders felt his face flush. “Shit. Sorry, I was… um, a little distracted.”

She chuckled, her eyes twinkling as she caught Fenris’ gaze. “There are worse things to be distracted by, I can imagine. Well,” she said with an air of finality as she pushed away from the table, “I’m going to sleep for an eternity because Andraste’s knickerweasels, am I _knackered_.

“Hey!” Anders shouted. “That’s my line!”

Rashia laughed as she turned towards the nearest library doors. “I find that I like it. Really rolls off the tongue. I’ll see you at dinner you two.”

And with that, she left and the library grew silent until Anders made his way to one of the settees and sunk into the cushions, with Fenris sitting down next to him with a bit more grace. “Careful of the eggs,” he cautioned, and immediately Anders began to fuss over them, checking for any breaks. Fenris gently grabbed his hands and clucked his tongue a few times.

“They’re fine, Anders. The shells are sturdier than that, I promise you.”

Anders sighed in instant relief, and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“So… this morning was not what I expected when I got up today.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Fenris agreed. Anders felt the naga’s gaze turn on him. “It does make me wonder if there is a Maker though, given what we were discussing not long ago.”

“About Justice.” “Yes.” 

Anders shifted, turning to face his mate. “You know, I’m not sure what to think, exactly. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. Worried about Karl. Maker. Karl.”

“I can feel how much you cared for him. How much you still care.”

Anders nodded stiffly. “He was my first love. I never thought I’d see him again, after he was transferred. To know that he’s still alive… it means more to me than his book ever did.” Fenris nodded. “I cannot say that I am alright with the idea of you joining with the spirit, but I cannot deny that your commander’s revelations have… shifted my views a little. I, too, have a lot to think about.” 

“Would you still love me if I did it?” Anders asked, unable to keep the shard of fear in his heart from blossoming and leaking through the bond. Fenris took Anders into his arms and kissed him, smothering that fear with a fierce conviction that Anders recognized.

“Yes, I would,” Fenris told him, and Anders knew that the naga spoke truthfully.

“I would also be very afraid,” Fenris confessed, “but I would still love you.” Anders nodded, and pressed his forehead against the naga’s. “I think I might like to skip our reading today and follow Rashia’s example. A nap sounds… really good right about now, actually.”

“Our little conundrum will still be there when we wake,” Fenris warned, and Anders chuckled.

“I know. But my mother always said that I did my best thinking after a nap.”

Fenris kissed him again as he slid off the settee, grasping one of Anders’ hands tightly. “Very well then, my love,” he whispered. “Let us go and rest, and think on what lies ahead.” Anders got up and followed him, and after Fenris had finished cleaning up and rearranging the bedding to his liking, they settled down in the nest, the eggs settled in the protective coil of Fenris’ tail as Anders lay half on top of Fenris, using the elven naga as his pillow.

Fenris covered them with a light blanket, and a wave of serenity settled over them.

Luxuriating in such a rare moment of calm, Anders slowly sunk into the mattress. He was well on his way to answering the call of the Fade when he heard Fenris’ voice cutting through the darkness, calling to him.

“Hmm? What is it, Fen?”

A rumbling chuckle rolled through him, and Anders couldn’t help but make a soft sound of contentment. A hand brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

“I… I just want you to know, this, Anders. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will follow. I know there is much I still do not know, and many things I still fear, but you… you have changed me. For the better, I think.”

“You’ve changed me too,” Anders mumbled, hoping Fenris understood.

The resulting laughter told Anders that he had. “I’m glad I met you,” Anders sighed, content.

_And I you. Anders. Amatus._

_What does that mean?_

_It is a term of endearment some in Tevinter call their loved ones. I am finally comfortable with claiming it for myself. For you. Us._

Anders couldn’t help but smile at the warmth that rushed through him.

 _There is a similar endearment in Ander,_ he told Fenris as the call of the Fade grew louder.

_Will you tell it to me?_

A bubble of laughter formed in Anders’ chest and spilled in a soft chuckle from his lips.

 _Someday, Fenris,_ Anders teased. He laughed again when the mental equivalent of a shoulder shove touched his mind through their connection.

 _I hate you_ , Fenris teased back. _No you don’t_ , said Anders.

_No, I suppose not. I love you… more than I can say._

_I know,_ Anders replied, and not long after that, Anders answered the call of the Fade at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is. The _weirdest_ fic I've ever written, and of course it's my first chapter fic in like five years. 
> 
> I wanted to leave room for a sequel, in which Anders and Justice will likely have merged, and the two of them will be running around Kirkwall with Fenris and the rest of the crew. Danarius would of course be addressed, and maybe some JustFenhanders happen in between it all. Also maybe Karl doesn't die. Like I said at the beginning, I did not intend for there to be plot. It just sort of happened. And yeah, I probably scrambled a bit for a believable solution to the Justice problem, so instead of forcing them to make a decision before they were ready, I left it purposefully ambiguous.
> 
> I hope you lovely, kinky people enjoyed it though. I certainly did.

**Author's Note:**

> I tumble [here](http://timesorceror.tumblr.com/). Come say hi. Oh, and [here's](http://hikarinovikki.tumblr.com/) where I stuff all of my naughty posts. :P


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